


From the Bar

by flutterbyhime



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: AU, F/M, competent Desmond, mild-slow burn, modern timeline only
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-07
Updated: 2018-02-24
Packaged: 2018-03-29 10:40:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 52,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3893314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flutterbyhime/pseuds/flutterbyhime
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Lucy was beginning to approach her darkest hour, a bartender pulls her back up on her feet and tells her she isn't on her own anymore. But things start becoming complicated when her bartending friend becomes 'Subject 17'.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Familiar Faces

**Author's Note:**

> First, I'd like to say thank you to everyone who is giving this story a chance.  
> Secondly, this has been originally posted on fanfiction.net. I'm currently facing a writer's block at the moment, so I'm posting this story here to help get the creative juices flowing again.  
> There are currently eleven chapters and they will all be posted here in due time.  
> Feed back is always appreciated and welcomed.

                “Another rough day, Lucy?” Nathan asked as he gently placed a small martini in front of her. She sighed and nodded, taking a sip. Her head fell into one of her hands as she tried not to lose her cool. Clay Kaczmarek was getting worse and worse, and it was all her fault. Lucy took in a shuddery breath, rubbing her forehead. This was getting harder and harder for her to do each day. “Hey…” he placed a hand over hers’ and she looked up, meeting his gaze. “Everything’s going to be okay.”

                “I don’t know Nathan. Things are pretty fucked up right now.” She said softly. He laughed lightly, patting her hand before mixing a drink for one of the waitresses.

                “I know Lucy, I know.  But sometimes we have to do things we rather not. You just have to get through it, one step at a time.” He gave her a small, sympathetic smile. “You can do it Lucy. I’ve got faith in you.”

                She returned his smile with a weak one and took another sip of her drink. “Thanks. It’s good to know that somebody does.”

* * *

 

                Lucy felt sick to her stomach as she stared at the unconscious man in the Animus. When she had first stepped into the room, she thought she was seeing things. But Lucy’s eyes weren’t playing tricks on her. Laying in the Animus was her main contact and connection to the Brotherhood of Assassin’s. The man, for the past five years, had not only kept her informed on nearby on the happenings of other assassins and checked up on her undercover assignment, but had helped her stay in some form of contact with old friends hiding somewhere within the city. She was already worried that Vidic suspected that she was with the Assassins rather than unallied. And now the one thing truly keeping her connected to the Brotherhood was trapped her with her.

                Two years into her assignment, she had begun to doubt herself, questioning if she was really on the right side or not. Lucy had felt so lost and alone at one point, she seriously considered abandoning the Brotherhood and begin making ties with the Templars. But that had all changed when she had wandered into a bar near Abstergo. She hadn’t even touched the wine list when the bartender pushed a dark, yet vivid red drink in front of her. The man had given her a simple smile, asked if she just finished up a bad day at work and slowly eased her into a steady conversation. At first, Lucy had been very wary, unsure if this man was a Templar. It didn’t help him that he seemed to look very familiar to her. But as they talked, she noticed all the small, subtle hand gestures and phrases. Hand gestures and phrases that were taught to Assassin’s who specifically went undercover. And that simple message he had given her was all she needed. _You’re not alone anymore. I’m here to help._

                But now he was here in the lion’s den. Something Lucy had always feared.

                “Ah! Ms. Stillman! I’ve been waiting for you!” Vidic said, excited as a child on Christmas morning. Lucy felt ill all over again.

                “I noticed. Who…?” She tried her best not to let her emotions show. It wouldn’t help either of them if her panic gave them away.

                “Our newest subject! And I must say, he had quite an impressive bloodline.” The old man chuckled. Lucy quirked an eyebrow in question as he handed her a file. She opened it up and had to re-read it at least three times. “Desmond Miles! Twenty-eight years old, been working as a bartender at the Pen & Ink.  We can trace his ancestry all the way back to the Middle Ages.”

                “The Middle Ages?” Lucy repeated. All she could do was stare at the file in her hands and feel like an idiot. Desmond Miles, the son of William Miles. No wonder he looked so damn familiar! Even though it had been nearly seven years since she had even _seen_ William Miles, it was so obvious now; the resemblance between father and son was strong.

                “Yes! High Middle Ages to be more precise. We have reason to believe that Mr. Miles here is a possible descendent of Altaïr Ibn-La’Ahad.” Vidic explained. “Let’s get started, shall we Ms. Stillman?”

                Her head snapped up. What the hell was Vidic thinking? Trying to sync up an unconscious person – _Subject Lucy. You have to call them subjects here_ – could be highly dangerous; especially when someone had to be drugged and sedated to get them into the Animus.  “Are you sure?” She looked back at the file, reading how much sedatives were administered to Nathan- to _Desmond._ “With the amount of sedatives in his system, we don’t know how long he’ll be out. With one session alone he could go into a coma.”

                “Then I guess we’ll have to take that risk.” He cut her off as she started to object, “We’re close to finding it! I can feel it! Now synch him up Ms. Stillman! We don’t have time for arguments.” Vidic instructed.  Apparently the old man didn’t want to listen the possible, negative impacts. He was so damn confident in his belief that Nathan – no, Desmond, Desmond was a descendent of Altaïr. One of the most revered man in the history of the Brotherhood. She clenched her jaw and headed over to the control panel.

                _“Sometimes we have to do things we rather not. You just have to get through it, one step at a time Lucy”_

                She glanced over at Desmond’s unconscious form again before starting the synchronization process. It felt like it had been ages since he had given her those words of wisdom. She wondered if he would keep doing so while they were both stuck here. Lucy quietly sighed, barely listening to Vedic’s excited ramblings as the Animus began synchronizing Desmond to Altaïr’s memories. She did as she was told and begin to try and access Altaïr’s first encounter with a Piece of Eden. She gnawed on her lower lip as the Animus started to show signs of lag. A look over to Desmond confirmed that he was trying to wake up.

                “Dr. Vidic, he’s waking up.” Lucy said softly.

                “Oh damn it all! Continue with synchronization, Miss Stillman.” Vidic ordered.

                She nodded, biting back her fear as she kept a steady eye on Desmond’s vitals. There was no way in hell that she would let him become like Subject 16, like Clay. Lucy watched as his mind began to fight off the Animus and silently cheered him on as she informed Vidic. It was clear to both of them that he was now regaining full consciousness. Vidic barked at her to keep trying, she knew it wasn’t going to happen though. But she played the part of the willing assistant.

                “We’ve got a problem! I can’t anchor him to the memory. Too much psychological trauma.” Lucy briefly wondered if it was more Altaïr’s trauma than Desmond’s.  “He’s rejecting the treatment. Retreating.” She began to try to put him in an earlier memory, ready to eject him at any given notice.

                “Desmond. I need you to try and relax.” The old man instructed.

                “Let me try and stabilize it.” Lucy continued to keep an eye on Desmond’s vitals and stats, not too terribly surprised to see that he was now awake and fully alert.

                “Focus. Listen to the sound of my voice.” She was tempted to tell Vidic that no one wanted to listen to the sound of his voice. “Recognize that what you’re seeing isn’t real, just a picture of the past. It can’t hurt you.” Bullshit.

                Desmond’s vitals started going off the charts; she could tell that he was trying to fight off the Animus with more gusto. And while she was proud of him doing so, this was far too dangerous. He was going to do some very serious psychological damage to himself if he kept it up.

                “Damn it! It’s not working!” She said with false anger.

                “Give it a moment, Ms. Stillman! He’ll… adjust. The first time is never easy.” Vidic said, almost in a careless sort of tone.

                “We’re losing him!” Technically, that was a lie. Lucy was actually starting the desynchronizing process, but Vidic could never truly tell the difference between an operator desynch and a forced desynch. That’s why she operated and over looked essentially all Animus sessions.

                “That’s enough Ms. Stillman!” Vidic snapped.

                “We need to pull him out. Now.” She glared at the older man. She wasn’t going to let Desmond stay in that damn machine any longer. She wouldn’t let him become like Clay. The Animus cleanly desynchronized and removed Desmond from Altaïr’s memory, and Lucy let out a quiet sigh of relief. His eyes snapped open, quickly taking in his surroundings before closing them, groaning at the bright florescent lights. “Are you okay?” She resisted the urge to take hold of his hand and to let him know that she was sorry.

                “I told you he’d be fine.” Vidic said. Lucy shot him a dirty look.

                “Bastards!” Desmond hissed as he started rubbing a temple.

                “Now, now. I just saved your life.” Vidic lied. Desmond knew though that the old man needed him alive. The Animus couldn’t work with an inactive brain after-all. Lucy gave Desmond a small smile as she helped him sit up.

                “Saved my life?!” he scoffed, “You kidnapped me! Drugged me up and the next thing I know I’m in that… thing!”

                “Animus. It’s an Animus.” Vidic corrected.

                “Whatever. Save for Miss Frequent Customer here,” Desmond jerked a thumb in Lucy’s direction, “I don’t even know you people! What the hell is going on here?” She heard Desmond drum his fingers twice in a rapid motion before repeating the action once at a slightly slower pace. She turned her head away from him, tucking an invisible loose hair behind her ear, making sure her pinky was out and slightly curled.

                _Did you know?_

_No._

                “You have information we need, Mr. Miles.” Vidic answered.

                “Information?” Desmond laughed, “I’m a bartender for christsakes! What do you want me to do? Teach you how to mix a martini?”

                Vidic frowned, “We know who you are. What you are.”

                Desmond’s eyes narrowed and he studied the old man. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He said evenly. Lucy shifted nervously as she watched the two stare each other down, sizing each other up. Almost as if they were daring the other to reveal how much the other knew.

                “Don’t play coy with me. There isn’t time. You’re an Assassin. And whether you realize it or not, you’ve got something my employers want. Locked away in that head of yours.”

                Desmond frowned, “But I’m not an Assassin.  Haven’t been for a long time.” Lucy felt her heart speed up. He had told her that he had briefly left the Brotherhood, but if the Templars had found out that Desmond was an active member and was aiding her… She suppressed that train of thought. Neither of them could afford to think about the consequences at the moment. They had work on keeping Vidic in the dark in the moment, keeping him from suspecting too much.

                “Yes… your file indicated as much. Something about an ‘escape’.” Vidic said with a smirk and Lucy felt herself breathe a little easier. She kept her eyes trained on her consol as Vidic and Desmond continued on with their verbal spar. It was hard to listen to after being through it so many times already. She clenched her jaw as the old man told Desmond he would be ‘free to go’ after he accessed the memory of Altaïr’s they were after. More like free to go in a body-bag. She and Desmond briefly glanced at one another. They didn’t need to do any special gestures to show how they knew the truth.

                “I’m not going back in there.” growled Desmond.

                _Don’t fight back too much… They might sedate you just to ensure they reach their goal._

                “Then we’ll induce a coma and continue our work. When we’re done, you’ll be left to die. Truth be told, the only reason we didn’t do it in the first place is because you being conscious saves us time.” Vidic said smugly.

                “You’re insane.”

                “What is it, Mr. Miles? Live, or die?” Desmond looked between him and Lucy. Lucy discreetly nodded towards the Animus and watched as he grumbled out a series of obscenities as he lay back down in the Animus. Vidic nodded to her and Lucy began to prep Desmond to synchronize with Altaïr’s earlier memories. She held back a smile as Desmond played along with Vidic’s ‘What’s a Genetic Memory’ game. A glance over at Desmond revealed that he was smirking.

                “And the Animus lets you decode and read these DNA files…?” Desmond ‘asked’, quirking an eyebrow. Vidic confirmed it and looked like he was about to go on and on about something she and Desmond already knew.

                “But there’s a problem.” Lucy interjected before Vidic could truly ramble, ignoring the older man’s annoyed glare. “This is the specific memory we’re trying to access.” She highlighted the memory block, briefly flashing the ‘P.O.E. contact’ underneath it for Desmond to see. “Unfortunately, when we try to open the memory, your mind withdraws. You lack the confidence to step into your ancestor’s body. That’s what was happening earlier. You got knocked out of the target memory and pushed back into stable state.”

                “And why~ did that happen?” She could hear a slight tone of playfulness in his voice.

                “It’s your subconscious. It’s resisting.” She briefly explained the similarities between what happened earlier and hypnosis patients. “You need to be eased in. Even then there can be problems.” She warned. Even though she knew Desmond knew the risks, but she had to remind him. If not for him, then at least for her state of mind. Lucy continued on with the usual dialogue she gave to every test subject that didn’t have to be put into a coma and before long, she was starting up the tutorial program. Desmond nodded at her after she finished up her speech, shifting a little to get a little more comfortable. A small, quiet sigh past her lips as she began to line up a memory he would have no problem diving into.

                “So, just how frequent of a patron of the Pen & Ink are you Miss Stillman?” Vidic asked as Desmond began the memory.

                She almost jumped when he spoke. She had gotten use to the quiet that had filled the room and hum from the Animus. “About once a week. He knows how to make one hell of a martini.” Lucy answered. No point in lying. She did go to the bar about once a week and Desmond did mix the best drinks she had ever had.

                “Ah.” Was all Vidic could say. He was probably expecting a more skittish reaction.

                “I wish I would have been informed that Desmond was going to be our new subject. Now I’ll have to have my weekly drink here.” She paused for a moment, frowning. “And probably have to buy all the ingredients for my favorite drinks and equipment to make them too.” She felt genuinely annoyed by this fact. She was not looking forward to having to spend all that cash. Good alcohol was never cheap. And surely any equipment Desmond needed wouldn’t be cheap either.

                “Surely you can find another bar Miss Stillman.” Vidic said with a slight laugh.

                “Like you can find another test subject who is so cleanly synchronizing with Altaïr Ibn-La’Ahad.” She replied coldly, glaring at him, “Dr.Vidic, I have very particular and picky taste when it comes to my alcohol. Our current subject has met and gone beyond those standards.”

                “There’s no reason to get angry.”

                “Dr.Vidic! I have devoted nearly seven years of my life on this project. Seven years of what I thought - at the start of all this – would be research that could be used to help treat patients with amnesia, alzheimers, dementia! Not some insane search to find these- these ‘Pieces of Eden’!” Lucy hissed, letting out some of her pent-up frustration. “So _forgive_ me for wanting to continue something that takes my mind off of it.” She huffed as she returned to monitoring Desmond’s progress. She hoped that Vidic would take a hint and stay quiet for the rest of the session.

                “So chatting up the bartender is what relaxes you?” Vidic asked after several minutes of silence.

                Her head snapped up, “What?”

                “When our agents located and observed Mr. Miles, they were quiet shocked to see you… ‘chatting him up’. Or at least, that’s what I heard.”

                “Well, you go to the same bar for a good five years, you’re bound to start having conversations the person who serves the drinks. Along with the other patrons.” She let out an exasperated sigh. “I don’t ask you about the places you go to relax or the things you do after work.” She paused for a moment, “What’s this all about exactly Dr.Vidic?”

                “I’m just wondering if you knew about Mr. Miles previous association.”

                “To be honest, I’m shocked.” Lucy lied cleanly.

                “Never expected anything at all?”

                She shook her head, keeping her eyes on Desmond’s progress. “No. He’s always seemed to be pretty average joe.” She paused for a moment before letting out a tiny giggle. “Though he would always chat up the Rainbow Squad when they were in.”

                “Rainbow… Squad?”

                “The gays. Just as their nick-names suggest, they are a colourful bunch. They always have great stories to tell. Desmond would always make sure they had the best service and drinks they could get. I think he did it mostly for tips, but you never know.” Lucy explained, effectively shutting Vidic up for the rest of the session. Lucy could help but let out a small, triumphant smile.

* * *

 

                Lucy’s and the old man’s voice were slightly distant at first, but they grew clearer and louder with each moment. Damn, this was one huge mind-fuck, more so then he had expected. Desmond was tempted to check his stomach to make sure that there wasn’t a scar where Al Mualim had stabbed Altaïr. But he knew there would be nothing but his own collection of scars; the only scar he and Altaïr would ever have in common was the one on the lip.

                “…him out. He’s been in there way too long.” Lucy stated. Desmond gladly took her offered hand for support as he slowly sat up. He hoped neither of them were blowing each other’s cover. While he could probably afford to be discovered as an active and working member of the Brotherhood, Lucy couldn’t. There wasn’t a single doubt in his mind that the Templars would kill her if they found out.

                “What’s another hour or two?” Vidic asked angrily.

                _I would prefer not to go insane or develop schizophrenia. Though there’s probably not much of difference there with this, is there?_

                “Why don’t we discuss this in the conference room? Give Desmond a minute to stretch his legs.” Neither Desmond nor Lucy gave Vidic much of a chance to argue. Lucy headed to the conference room while Desmond slowly stood up and started to walk around. It was a prime opportunity to assess his surroundings. Cameras were everywhere even in the bathroom, a fact which disturbed Desmond to no end. Anything that could potentially could be used as a weapon or be used to cause himself harm was blunted or gone. And furniture light enough to carry, but heavy enough to do some form of damage was gone or bolted down. All the windows, with their impressive view, were more plastic than glass and seemed to be equipped with multiple sensors. There was no doubt that there were sensors in and around the doors as well. Probably bugs all over the place too. He would have to see if Rebecca could do a subtle hacking of Abstergo’s security system, or least give the system lag or default. He and Lucy were going to need all the help they could get when it was time for their escape. Desmond looked up as Lucy and Vidic came back into the main room.

                “We’re done for today, Mr. Miles. I suggest you go to your room and get some rest.” Vidic snapped, almost looking like a little kid ready to throw a tantrum over some candy or toy. The old man practically stormed out of the room, leaving Desmond and Lucy alone.

                “I’m sorry. I didn’t think you were being targeted.” Lucy said softly.

                He gave her a reassuring smile, “Don’t worry about it. You didn’t know. Just as you didn’t know I had had ties with the Assassins.” He could have let out a sigh of relief when Lucy took the hint and brought up the topic of his leaving the Farm. Hopefully whoever was watching those cameras and listening in would continue to buy into their cover. It took a bit of effort though to act like an ignorant sixteen year-old angry at his parents again. He had gotten over those feelings ages ago, but… that was a story for another time, another day. At least it seemed that she was actually interested in hearing about it.

                “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to drudge up the past.” Lucy said quietly.

                “It’s alright.” Desmond gave her another smile.

                “You know, you’re still expected to make my drinks.”

                He chuckled, “Anything for my best customer. You’ll have to go out and buy the stuff for them though. I’m pretty sure our friends here don’t have decent vodka.” He laughed as Lucy swore.

                “I knew it.”

                “So a quick question before I turn in.” She quirked an eyebrow, “How did they find me? I mean, I haven’t been anywhere near another assassin since I was sixteen.” Lucy smiled at him, sinking into a hip. He knew that she didn’t buy the lie. He was mostly doing it to save her the trouble of going through possibly vague files.

                “Well, I’m sure you haven’t used your real name for some time, ‘Nathan’.” She gave him a mock glare.

                “Nope. Not before today.” He leaned against the Animus, watching as she thought of all the possible ways he could have gotten caught.

                “Any credit cards?”

                “Cash only.” He was having a hard time keeping a playful tone out of his voice and he could tell Lucy was having the same problem as him. _Come on Lucy… I’ve told you my weakness before._

                “Telephone?”

                “If you don’t count work, there’s no one to call.”

                “Hm…” Desmond smirked as Lucy’s eyes lit up, probably remembering their conversation months ago over modes of transportation. “Driver’s license?”

                “Motorcycle. Always a guilty pleasure of mine.”

                “There’s your answer. Photo and fingerprint.” She poked him in the chest, frowning slightly.

                “But this is a drug company. What does Abstergo have to do with the DMV?” She knew what he was really asking. _‘How powerful are the Templars now?’_ She started to look around nervously.

                “Desmond, these guys are everywhere. They –“ Both of them jump slightly. He could have sworn he heard something shuffle or fall just outside one of the doors. And he remembered the possibility that there were bugs throughout the room. “I-I’m sorry. I really can’t talk about it. I’ll see you tomorrow. Get some rest.”

                “See ya.” He watched her leave before nodding to himself. _Time to see if I’m missing anything_. Desmond walked towards the large windows overlooking the city. Resting his head against the cool plexiglas, he closed his eyes and then slowly opened them. He turned back to the room, everything in Eagle vision now. He frowned slightly at the numerous symbols, letters, numbers, and drawings all over the room. All them undoubtedly written in blood. No wonder Lucy had been in such a state of distress when she told him about Clay’s death. He made his way to the small bedroom, not sure if it was a bad thing that he wasn’t surprised that the drawings and writings continued on into the bedroom. He swore under his breath as the door shut behind him; no doubt that it locked as well. He closed his eyes, rubbing and pinching the bridge of his nose. This was going to be quite a challenge. Not only did he have to go through his ancestor’s memories (something he really felt he didn’t have the right to do), but he had to find a way to keep Shaun and Rebecca in the loop, insure that his and Lucy’s status as Assassins was kept under wraps, and plan an escape. And then he was going to have to figure out if any or all of Clay’s writings and drawings were worth the risk of documenting or not. Desmond sighed as he flopped back onto the bed, making his Eagle Vision fade away so he could try and get some sleep. Though he knew it might be hard to with the knowledge that his room was painted in blood (even if all the blood was all covered with a fresh coat of paint) and that there were cameras essentially watching his every move.

                “God, I hate my life some days.”


	2. Knowing Your Drinks

                Lucy shifted nervously from foot to foot as she waited for Nathan to rejoin her in the alleyway. She knew that this was dangerous but she had to know. She had to know if he was really here to help her or if he was ordered to keep an eye on her. And if he was ordered to watch her, was he with the Order or with the Templars? She had to know, it had been plaguing her for the past five months. But now… now she was starting to regret this decision. The alleyway behind the bar would have been pitch black if it were not for the lamps marking the back-doors to the various businesses. Anyone could be lurking in the shadows, and ‘anyone’ could include Templar agents. Lucy couldn’t help but glance up at the taller structures that were several blocks down. Her eyes fell onto the general location of Abstergo’s Italian headquarters. She could’ve been so easily followed. Damn, this was slowly beginning to seem like the worst idea ever.

                “Sorry for the wait. The newbie messed up the house special.” Nathan said softly, announcing his presence and making Lucy jump. “Here,” he held out a styrofoam cup, “hot coca. It’s a bit chilly out here.” She nodded, warily taking the offered drink. “So…what is it you wanted to talk about?”

                She glanced at him from the corner of her eye before diverting her gaze when she realized he was doing the same. Lucy took a deep breath, finding and steadying her resolve. << _Français?_ >> she asked quietly. Nathan was silent for several long moments and her nervousness began to creep back up.

                << _Oui, well enough_. >> He finally replied.

                << _Uh…I…_ >> she felt herself begin to lose her nerve. It didn’t help that he was staring directly at her, no doubt studying her as she to shuffle nervously. << _Why are you here?_ >>

                << _To support you. Help you, if needed._ >> He said; Lucy could have sworn that she heard concern in his voice. << _Why do you ask?_ >>

                Lucy looked at him, trying to figure out exactly what she should say next. Two years on her own had made her incredibly wary and suspicious of people, especially those claiming to be a part of the Order. Granted, Nathan was the first one to do so, but Lucy knew she had to keep her guard up, constantly be on her toes. She had spent a large portion of her life preparing to infiltrate Abstergo and there was no room for error. Not when there was so much on the line. << _Because I need to know if I can trust you._ >> she whispered, looking away from him, staring at the small styrofoam cup in her hands. The silence was agonizing. Lucy could feel Nathan staring at her and she fought the urge to not look back at him.

                << _I can understand_. >> Nathan sighed, << _I’m sure after being more or less isolated would make anyone question someone who just suddenly shows up, out of the blue._ >> She nodded and couldn’t help but feel a little ashamed. << _But I know I can trust you_. >>

                Lucy’s head snapped up and she stared at him wide-eyed. “W-what?” This man had to be crazy, out of his mind. She could barely trust him, but he _knew_ he could trust her? After only five months?

                << _I trust you. I know I can, without a doubt_. >> Nathan’s smile was incredibly gentle and she couldn’t stop the blood rushing to her face. << _I know that it’ll take some time for you trust me, but…just know that I’m here for you. Like Ibn-La’Ahad once said, ‘we place faith in ourselves.’ So I’ll place faith, and trust, in you._ >> He placed a hand on her back, causing her to flinch and tense as he gently rubbed it, trying to offer some comfort to her. << _Don’t ever doubt that Lucy. Don’t ever doubt that._ >>

                She couldn’t help the shiver that ran down her spine. His hand… it felt so warm. Lucy looked away from him, very aware now of the blush staining her checks. “I… won’t Nathan…” She pulled away and handed back the styrofoam cup. “Sorry, not in the mood for cocoa.” Lucy muttered.

                He laughed and took the cup back without hesitation, “Won’t accept any drink that isn’t made in front of you still, huh?”

                She frowned at him, “I’d rather be cautious than drugged or dead.” He laughed again and Lucy felt her blush deepen.

* * *

 

                Desmond was grateful when Vidic growled at him to get out of the Animus. Desmond wondered if the old man was still sour about getting hit in the head with a pillow. Though Vidic had set himself up for that though; he shouldn’t have stood over the bed like a complete creeper. It was a natural reaction for Desmond. Hell, he did it to Shaun, had even done it to his father, when they tried to wake him up before his alarm clock went off. Desmond watched as the doctor stormed off through the larger doorway before turning his attention to Lucy.

                “So, feel like telling me who put the stick up his ass?” Desmond asked as leaned against the side of the Animus.

                “We have a deadline. One week. Well…six days now.” She answered.

                “And I take it you can’t talk about it?” He sighed as she shook her head. “Great. Being held hostage by a crazy scientists, forced to spend all day in a crazy ass machine and no one will or can tell me what you’re looking for and why.” He let out a small noise of frustration.

                Lucy frowned at him, “I am not crazy.”

                “I never said _you_ were, just the old man and your boss.” She gave him a disapproving look before she returned to typing up whatever it was she was typing. “So I’m stuck here for another six days, at least.”

                “Don’t start counting them down. They may decide you’re a valuable subject.” Lucy whispered, not looking up from her work.

                “I hope not.” He muttered. _And I don’t plan on staying here for more than six days, and neither should you Lucy._ “Well, besides laying in the Animus and sleep in a bed, anything else I can do during my down time?”

                She paused from her work and looked at him for a moment, as if he grew another head almost. “Uh.. If you wanna know more about Abstergo, take a look at the computer. The telecommunications stuff is particularly interesting.”

                “Let me rephrase that, is there anything _productive_ I can do?” Lucy blinked, looking taken back a bit. “Sorry, I’m not a big fan of standing about and being idle.”

                “And bartending is productive?” she teased.

                Desmond laughed, “Sure it is! It keeps my hands busy, and trust me, it can get pretty challenging when it hits two in the morning.”

                “I’m sure mixing a martini is not that complex.” Lucy scoffed.

                “You’d be surprised. With my line of work, you’re expected to know every type of drink out there, new and old. And you haven’t been to the bar on a full house night, trying to make twenty well drinks on top of making another twenty call drinks. The Pen & Ink is a quiet bar in comparison to most music bars, but the weekends can get pretty crazy.”

                “Well drinks? Call drinks?” she asked with confusion.

                “Well drinks are drinks that aren’t mixed with brand name products, the less expensive liquors. That’s what the speed rack is made up of all that. There’s a really easy saying to remember the order they’re placed in the rack-“

                “Alright! Alright! I get it! I don’t shit about bartending.” Lucy cried, throwing her hands up in defeat and effectively stopping Desmond from giving her a complete schooling on the subject.

                “I could teach you.” Desmond offered, chuckling, “You know, after you guys get whatever you need from my head. In fact, we could have a little celebratory drink after all this.”

                “You think that’s a good idea Nath- Desmond” Lucy flushed and Desmond couldn’t help but laugh. It seemed like she was still use to calling him by his alias. Not that he could blame her; he was sure he would be doing the same if the situation was reverse.

                “I’m sure it’ll be okay. It’s not like we’re going to get shit-faced drunk and wreck the place.” He chuckled, “How about I give you a list of stuff we’re gonna need?”

                “I’m going to be afraid of how much this is going to cost, aren’t I?”

                “Don’t worry! I’m free to go in six days, right?” Lucy slowly nodded, “I’ll need to stop by work to pick up my last paycheck before I skip this place. I’ll be sure to pay you back before I do.”

                She regarded him for a moment, no doubt unsure if he was serious about giving her a written encrypted message in a Templar headquarters. “Fine.” She opened up her email account, not even bothering to make an effort to try and be discreet while she typed in her password. “Go ahead and type up everything we’ll need for drinks. I’ll email it to myself when you’re done.”

                He nodded and thanked her; working quickly, he opened a second window and rapidly typed an email to Shaun and Rebecca’s spam account.

                _On the ground, Maria is fine. Is there still no word from George Sr.?_

                Desmond sent it without hesitation, quickly deleting it from Lucy’s sent folder before closing the window. He took his time typing up the liquors that he needed, along with the mixers. “Do you want me to write up the best place to get a deal on all this?”

                “I’m sure I can remember the name of a liquor store, Desmond.” Lucy said sounding a little offended.

                “I’m sure you can. You’ll want to go to Axel’s and tell Horace that Nathan sent you. He’ll give you a discount.” Desmond instructed. “And next door, at Marcy’s, you’ll be able to find all the mixers without too much trouble.” Lucy didn’t inquire who these people really were but just nodded and sent the email to herself. She shooed him away, informing him that she still had some work to do and that he should consider getting some rest. Desmond sighed and made his way back to the deceptively creepy bedroom.

                _Might as well work out a bit. Can’t get too soft._

* * *

 

                _She was at the bar, in her usual seat at the counter. She looked around and found to find the bar empty. Save for Desmond. He was all the way at the other end of the bar counter. She watched him as he slowly prepared some sort of drink. He never looked at her once, his eyes remained on his work. She wanted to wave at him or say something, but she couldn’t move, couldn’t find her voice. She looked down at her hands. A soft ‘clink’ caught her attention and she looked up to discover a cocktail in front of her. A Maiden’s Blush. Her head snapped over to Desmond’s direction. His back was turned to her. Was he… was he leaving?_

_“Lucy…”_

                Lucy jolted herself awake, nearly falling out of her computer chair. She swore when she realized that she knocked over her bowl and that it had shattered once it made contact with the floor. She quickly went to the kitchen to grab the broom and dustpan. Lucy tried to ignore how hot her face felt. What the hell was that all about? For as long as she could remember, she had never had a dream like that. And she had never, _ever_ , had a dream involving Desmond. But one thing she knew, she shouldn’t be having dreams about her teammates. Especially ones that confused the hell out of her.  She growled in frustration as some of the shards refused to stay in the dustpan.

                She looked at the computer monitor and paused. Two messages were still displayed, one from Desmond and one from his father. William’s message was filled with the usual instructions, telling her to keep an eye on the Templars’ actives, send him status reports. But it surprised her when he offered to help extract her and Desmond from Abstergo’s Italian Headquarters. Lucy was still trying to figure out how to reply to that.

                And then there was Desmond’s message hidden among the shopping list.

                _I’ll be okay. Keep it up and stay safe. Don’t do anything foolish._

                A sigh left her as she thought about all the possible implications from that message. If he meant for her to continue on without him if something happened to him… she felt dread slowly fill her. Desmond couldn’t think, _believe_ that he would end up like Clay, could he? Lucy took a shuddery breath as she tried to steady her emotions. He had to know she was taking every precaution that she could, that she could get away without it being too suspicious. A glance at the clock told her it was well past midnight, almost one in fact. She shook her head and gathered the rest of the broken bowl.

                The stress was beginning to catch up to her. It wasn’t helping that she couldn’t do her usual stress relieving routine. Not when her bartender was locked away. That had to explain why she had that she dreamed. Lucy tossed the shattered remains of the bowl in the trash bin and headed to the bathroom. She froze for a moment. Did she…did she just… did she really just think that? That Desmond was _her_ bartender? Heat rushed back to her cheeks with a greater intensity then before. First dreaming of him and now she was starting to ‘claim’ him as hers? She turned the water on and splashed water on her face.

                This was ridiculous! She had a job to focus on! Lucy forced herself to think back to Desmond’s message. He had to not do anything foolish. Did that mean that Desmond already had a plan? Maybe it was already in the works? That could possibly explain why Desmond was now ‘Subject 17’. And it could also explain why he had acted so strange all last week. She made a slight noise of frustration at the thought. If there was plan in the works already, why wasn’t she informed of it? Was it because she of her current position? That she was supposed to be neither Templar nor Assassin on this assignment? Well, if this was some crazy plan that he cooked up, his father certainly wasn’t in the loop. Or at least not to her knowledge. Lucy sighed, wondering if should send a message to Shaun and Rebecca. But it was possible Desmond already sent a message to them. God, this was mess. She still had to reply to William’s message.

                Lucy frowned as she thought of William Miles. The man had spent years practically grooming her for this assignment, keeping her essentially isolated from the Order. She never really trusted William, still didn’t for that matter. Was he really willing to get a one up on the Templars that he would put his own son at risk? But then there was today’s message offering to aid her and Desmond. Lucy just could never seem to read William. She always remembered him to be very stern; he probably still was. Desmond hardly seemed to come off the same way as his father did. But now that she thought about it, there would be moments where he did resemble his father. Mostly when she and Desmond would talk about her assignment or the unfortunate people who would become Abstergo’s test subjects. Lucy’s frown softened as thought about Desmond. His father she may never be able to trust, but she knew she could and would always trust Desmond, even with the headache that he was inadvertently causing her.

                Turning off the faucet, she headed back to the computer. She sighed as she sat down and closed the window displaying Desmond’s message. She had to type up a reply to William, at least to let him know not to send any help for now. The last thing Lucy and Desmond needed was some hastily put together rescue operation. The Templars would slaughter any Assassin that tried to set foot into that building.

                _William,_

_I’ve been ensuring that we are taking every precaution that we can. Even with the shortened deadline, I’ve been making sure that Desmond has limited exposure to the Animus. Desmond seems to already have a plan in motion, so I will have to get in contact with Shaun and Rebecca for further details. If either of us needs any aid in leaving our current location, I will have Desmond contact you first._

_L. Stillman_

                She read it over before clicking the send button. She leaned back in her chair and tried to relax a little. Her memory though, had other things in mind and began replaying what little she remembered from her dream. Lucy felt herself frowned as she thought about it. The whole dream was puzzling to her. How Dream Desmond was completely on the other side of the bar and how he continued to stay on the other side of the bar. She didn’t understand why she felt upset and disappointed. And then there was the cocktail that Dream Desmond had placed in front of her. She knew it was a ‘Maiden’s Blush’; she had recognized it by the colour and the way lemon slice was placed on the lip of the martini glass. Lucy felt herself blush. She couldn’t believe that she remembered exactly how Desmond prepared his drinks.

                “Stop thinking about it Lucy!” she growled to herself. “It’s just a stupid dream! It doesn’t mean anything.” She shut off her computer and quickly moved herself to the bedroom, wrapping herself up in her mother’s quilt. She slowly took deep breaths, trying to calm herself down and get emotions under control. A dream was not what she should be worried about. She needed to focus on the task at hand, and that was to get through Altaïr’s memories and escape Abstergo. “This is going to be a long night.” She groaned in the darkness, “A very long night.”


	3. Bits of the Pass

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a quick note, I'm looking for a beta reader/editor. Preferably someone who is very flexible with time seeing how I work a job that fluctuates in hours quite often. And my on and off writer's blocks. Please feel free to drop me a line if you're interested.  
> And as always,  
> I look forward to hearing from you in either comments or kudos!

_“Do you ever miss your family?”_ Lucy asked _, “I’m sure they had a few things to say when you announced you were moving to Italy.”_

Nathan shrugged, _“Well, the initial plan was to travel around, visit places that I could trace my family history to. My mom was fine with it, encouraged it even. Dad on the other hand…”_

                Lucy raised an eyebrow in question. She wondered if he was actually speaking about his parents. This was the only problem with speaking in code as often as they did. But she wouldn’t be surprised if his parents were against him working undercover. Nathan looked over at her before continuing on.

                _“Well, we kind of had fights leading up to me leaving.”_

_“Fights?”_

_“Yeah. Not arguments, but full blown shouting matches. Some of them would barely be on the verge of breaking into some form of violence. Sure it started out with arguments but when months dwindled down to a handful of weeks, that’s when we started fighting.”_ Nathan explained. Lucy wasn’t sure what to say. He was most likely talking about his parents, and he didn’t look happy about how he left things with his father. She couldn’t blame him. She wondered what would happen when he returned home from this assignment. Would he return home at all? Would his father even welcome him back?

                _“And your mother? How did she handle the fighting?”_ she quietly asked.

                Nathan just blankly started ahead at the wall across them, _“Mom’s always been supportive on just about anything I’ve decided I wanted to do. Always there with a smile, a good meal and some classic, but welcomed words of encouragement.”_ Nathan laughed a little.

                _“She sounds like a wonderful person.”_ Lucy said softly, _“You must miss her a lot.”_

                He smiled at her. _“I do. I really do. I think you would like her. Or at least her cooking. She makes the best roasted chicken!”_ Lucy tried to hold back her laughter as he went on describing his mom’s cooking.  Nathan looked almost childlike at the moment.

                _“Stop! You’re making me hungry!”_ she laughed. He let out an embarrassed chuckle and a ‘sorry’. _“If I’m ever lucky enough to have some of your mother’s cooking, I’m sure I won’t be leaving hungry.”_

                _“Sounds about right.”_ He leaned against the wall. _“What about your parents? I’m sure they had something to say when you got your job at Abstergo.”_

                Lucy looked away, unsure of what she should say. Her parents had had a hand in her training, making sure she had all the skills she could possibly need on this assignment. They often were hard on her while trying to be supportive. _“I miss them. They’ve always had high expectations for me.”_

                _“So getting a job at Abstergo was something like a validation of those expectations?”_

                She nodded, _“They were a little upset to hear that I was going to be moving here, but they told me to do my best.”_ Lucy sighed. She wondered what her parents would be saying now. They had been adamant on keeping to herself, on keeping limited contact with anyone in the order. And now she was breaking that rule they had laid down when she left for college. _“I don’t get to talk to them enough, but I hope they’re proud of me.”_

                _“I understand that.”_ Nathan said softly. _“I think they are. I mean, at least you didn’t end up being a bartender.”_ They both laughed and Lucy started to feel a little bit better.

* * *

 

                Sunlight filtered in through the closed blinds and the ticking of the kitchen clock echoed throughout the apartment. Lucy slowly woke up, feeling much better after a good night’s sleep. There were no strange dreams this time around thankfully. She let out a sound of content as she slowly sat up and stretched. Maybe she could skip her usual morning coffee today or actually take her time showering before heading into work. She turned to look at her alarm clock on the night stand, only to find it wasn’t there. She glanced down at the floor and saw the normally dreaded object laying there. She gingerly picked it up, hoping she wouldn’t have to purchase a new one.

                “Oh shit.”

                She should have left for work ten minutes ago. Swearing up a storm, Lucy quickly jumped out of bed, tearing off her pajamas and quickly slipping on her work clothes.

                “Great! So much for a freaking shower!” she said between winces. Apparently her hair decided to make itself a complete rats’ nest during the night. With lightning speed, Lucy slipped on her heels and grabbed her purse, nearly forgetting her employee badge in the process. “Vidic better not have started without me!” she growled, “If he has, I’ll make the Animus overheat on purpose!”

                The reception she received as she arrived was less than warm; Vidic snapping at her and needlessly reminding her about their deadline. At least he didn’t actually start without her. If he did, Desmond probably would have been repeating a memory by accident or worse, be forced to try and access the memory the Templars were after.

                Thankfully, the room grew quiet and filled with the hum of the Animus as Desmond progressed through the memory and Vidic left to grab coffee.  But without Vidic’s constant snapping and passive aggressive comments, Lucy thoughts strayed to the messages and her unusual dream.  She looked at his still form and sighed, half tempted to pull him out and ask him what exactly his message meant. But that would probably arouse suspicion. They only had four more days left and no one so far had really questioned her about her relation to Desmond. More importantly, they hadn’t felt it necessary to station more security guards in the area.  At least that she could be thankful for. And with the lack of extra security guards and Vidic, she was able to place an access code in Desmond’s room.

                Of course, towards the end of the day, the Animus started acting up. Figures. Whenever there was a deadline in place, nothing wanted to work properly. And as always, Vidic nearly blew a fuse and stormed out, leaving Lucy and Desmond alone.

                “You’d think he try and keep his cool a little.” Desmond commented as he slowly got out of the machine.

                Lucy sighed and shrugged, “Well, we’re under a lot of pressure. The hope is that there won’t be any more issues with the Animus.”

                “The sooner we get this done, the better?”

                She nodded, “But we also have to make sure we don’t push you too far. I…”

                Desmond looked at the floor, gently placing a hand on her shoulder. “I understand.” He said softly.  They stood there in silence for a while, both of them trying to think of something to say without blowing their cover.

                “I could really use a good drink.” Lucy whispered and Desmond couldn’t help that laughter that spilled out of him.

                “Well that makes two of us.” 

                She looked up and smiled at him, noting how he seemed tired. She wondered if he was getting enough sleep, though it wouldn’t be too surprising if Desmond was having problems getting to sleep. After-all, they were in the Lion’s Den and while Lucy could leave with ease, he was trapped. She wanted to ask him if he had a plan, if she should be trying to find a way out for both of them. Lucy shuffled awkwardly for a moment or two, looking away from him.

                “I never asked you how you ended up staying at Abstergo so long.” Desmond said softly.

                Lucy stilled and pursed her lips. She could still hear them coming in, the way they were cracking jokes… she shivered. From the corner of her eye, she glanced at Desmond as he mumbled out an apology and began telling her that she didn’t have to say anything. He wasn’t looking directly at her and her mind went back to her dream. She didn’t like the distance Dream Desmond had from her and in this moment, it felt like that distance was beginning to form between them again. Those first five months of knowing one another there had been a noticeable gap between them. She didn’t want that. His friendship had kept her days from completely nose-diving into the dark.

                “It was after the Animus was ready,” she said quietly, “three guys. They came in while I was sleeping, dragged me out of bed.” Lucy took in a small shuddery breath. “God… The worst part was I knew them. One of them, I would eat lunch with him sometimes. And he…” She tensed for a moment as Desmond placed a hand on her shoulder, “They were laughing, cracking jokes…”

                “Did you…did you try and fight back?” Desmond asked, worry and concern colouring his voice.

                She nodded, still unable to look at him, “I tried, kept telling myself it wasn’t real. That it was some sick nightmare. Then one of my neighbors came in, tried to scare them off and called the cops. They shot my neighbor in the shoulder and then Vidic came in, threaten them and they left. He told me they wouldn’t come for me again.”

                Desmond was silent for a long moment. “I’m sorry.”

                “For what?”

                _”For not getting here sooner.”_ He whispered.

                Her head snapped up and she stared at him with wide eyes. He didn’t look at her; it was almost as if he was ashamed that he wasn’t able to help her that night that happened over six years ago. She placed a hand over his, drawing his attention back to her and gave him a small smile.

                “It’s okay. Just don’t go treating me like glass.”

                He let out a single ‘heh’ and returned her smile, nodding before leaving to rest. Lucy watched him leave, hoping he would notice the small ‘present’ she left for him when Vidic had stepped out for coffee. She had to force herself to focus back on the Animus. She wished that Desmond had stayed a little longer, it was too quiet now.

* * *

 

                Desmond pulled off his hoodie and shirt, rolling his shoulders to try and work out some of the tension that had built up there. He walked into the bathroom, doing his best to keep his mind occupied with something else besides the cameras hidden in the room. He thought back onto the conversation he and Vidic had before Lucy came in. The old man knew how to put up a good argument. His little speech on how people ‘call out for direction’ and how the Templars were going to tell them ‘how to live their lives’. Sure he was subtle about it, but Desmond knew what he was implying. And he could see how pervious assassins sent to infiltrate the Templar Order would end up joining them. Well spoken words, persuasive arguments, and to top it all off, the Templars had the upper hand. That’s why Desmond had fought so hard to be here. He didn’t want Lucy to fall into the same cycle. Or even worse, become another Daniel Cross.

                He let out a shuddery breath as he leaned against the bathroom sink, his forehead resting against the mirror.  Only three days in and he was still trying to figure out how he was going to get himself and Lucy out of here.  They were both running out of time. Lucy had nearly reached her breaking point with Clay’s death and Desmond would most likely be killed after he was done going through Altaïr’s memories.  He pushed himself off the counter and headed back into the bedroom area, making his way to the closet with all intentions to get a clean shirt.

                “What the hell-?” he murmured. The closet was slightly ajar, a piece of shirt keeping it from closing all the way. He opened the closet, rummaging around to find a rolled up shirt. He pulled it out, letting unravel and discovering the slip of paper that lay in the middle. Desmond studied it for a moment confused until he recognized the handwriting. He let out a low chuckle and headed to the lock door, punching in the number on the paper on the keypad.  A victorious smile spread across his face as the door swooshed opened. He walked into the dark room, heading towards the Animus with purpose.  He turned on Lucy’s computer and opened up the email account, checking the spam folder.  A sigh of relief left him when saw an email from Shaun and Rebecca.

_Good to hear that you’re on the ground and Maria is doing okay. George Sr. has most likely tried to get in contact with both of you. I’ve got a few ideas to help Maria’s move back home to be a little easier._

                Desmond opened up the next email in line and chuckled as he recognized Shaun’s writing scheme for coded messages; the classic penis enlargement offer. Though his ‘See the Unknown England!’ was another of Desmond’s favorites. He read through the email and after taking some time to decipher it, was surprised at how much detail was in it. _Shaun and Rebecca have really out done themselves._

                There was a general description of the building layout, a general schedule of the security guards, and a quick mention of possible escape routes outside of Abstergo. With this, Desmond could actually plan a decent escape. Or at least an escape that would most likely get himself and Lucy out of the building and hopefully keep them from getting killed or captured again. He closed the email, ready to shut off the computer when a new email popped up in the spam box. He hesitated. He recognized the sender address – his father’s. No doubt Lucy already informed his father that he was Abstergo’s newest subject. He shut off the computer; it was most likely instructions for Lucy. If there was anything in there for him, she would let him know.

                 For a moment, Desmond was tempted to see if he could access Vidic’s email but decided against it. He could do that tomorrow night, plus he would probably have to steal the old man’s datapen in order to access the computer. He huffed as he walked back to the small room. He felt like he was complicating things, little by little. And have things becoming more complicated was not something he needed. Not now. _Focus on getting yourself and Lucy out of here alive. That’s what’s important at the moment._ He flopped face first onto the bed, a low groan left him as he felt the beginnings of a headache. Now that he started thinking about it, he probably already complicated things by becoming a bartender and befriending Lucy five years ago.

                Lucy…

                He hadn’t known. In all honesty, Desmond thought that they would have added in some fine print in her contract or legally found a way to keep her trapped at Abstergo. He hoped that whoever the grandmasters were decided to keep Lucy trapped here because they found her a valuable asset, and not because they discovered that she was an Assassin. But he believed that even Templars would have some sense of honour; that even they wouldn’t stoop so low. Apparently, he was wrong in his assumption. He wished he wasn’t. He wished that his father would have just trusted him to take care of himself and Lucy. Desmond doubted that he could have done anything though, especially if the Templars planned it out.

                A noise of frustration left him. Desmond could hear his father chiding him, telling him he was foolish if he thought that Templars would have some sense of a moral compass.  But Desmond knew there was another reason he was feeling disappointed in himself, that he felt guilty for not being there for Lucy. In five years, he had grown attached to her. She was a dear friend to him now, one he didn’t want to lose. Not here at least, not in Abstergo.

                _“You can’t get too attached to your partners, Desmond. You have to be able to go on with an assignment, even if you lose your partners along the way.”_

                His father had told him that years ago, when his training started to increase. Back then Desmond hadn’t taken those words of wisdom seriously. He personally believed that he could do it and follow in the example of his ancestors. But now Desmond was beginning to understand what his father had meant. Every once in a while his mind would bring up the possibility that he may have to leave Lucy behind at some point, that maybe the situation would require him to leave Lucy at Abstergo while he escaped. He didn’t want to consider it, but he had to and he hated it.

                Desmond yawned. How could laying in (or was it on?) a machine make him feel exhausted? Was he feeling Altaïr’s exhaustion? Or was it his stress starting to take a toll on him? Either way, he needed to rest. After-all, he knew he didn’t run efficiently when on empty. He felt his eyes close and he willed himself to relax. He could worry about escaping this prison tomorrow.

                _“Desmond…”_

_He buried his head further into the pillow. Couldn’t this person see he was trying to sleep? He mumbled something into his pillow and the person laughed lightly. A gentle hand began to run through his hair. He decided he like that._

_“You know I’m still waiting for you to make that drink, right?”_

_“I’ll get to it. I just need some shut-eye.” He yawned. Was it even possible for him to feel more tired than he already was?_

_Another light laugh filled his ears, “I know.”_

_Desmond slowly opened his eyes and turned his head to look at his companion. “Lucy…” She smiled at him. It was a soft and serene smile, one he saw every now and then at the bar, not the nervous and timid ones she gave him at Abstergo. “I’m sorry…”_

_She shushed him, still smiling, still running a hand through his hair. “Sleep. I’ll be here in the morning.”_

_He felt his eyelids become heavy and the world around them go dark. Lucy’s blonde hair and pale skin seemed to glimmer in the darkness._

_“Sleep….”_

_And he did._


	4. The Starting of Complications

Lucy watched as the rain pelted against the window, listening with half an ear as a musician played a light, jazz-like tune on the piano on the other side of the bar. She could have sworn she had heard the piece somewhere before but shrugged off the thought as she heard the all-too familiar ‘clink’. She looked up at Nathan who was wearing his usual small smile on his face. To Lucy, it always looked a bit secretive and if not a little cocky at times. But she liked that. It was better than those arrogant and condescending smirks she frequently saw at Abstergo. She picked up the cocktail, enjoying the taste as she took a sip.

                “Well that’s a first.” Nathan chuckled. Lucy raised an eyebrow in question. “I’m pretty sure you didn’t watch me mix that.”

                She flushed a little as she took another sip from her glass, trying to figure out something clever to say in response. Nathans chuckles slowly grew into small bursts of laughter.

                “Oh, shut up Nathan!” Lucy grumbled.

                “Sorry!” he said as his laughter died back down into chuckles. “It looks like it took me one whole year to earn your trust.”

                She wasn’t able to stop herself from joining in his laughter. She paused for a moment. “Has it really been a year?” Lucy asked, a little shocked. He nodded and chuckled again as she gave him a slightly disbelieving look. “Jesus, it has been a year!”

                “Yeah! Gave you that same drink one year ago, too.”

                Lucy blinked and held up her glass, studying the red cocktail. Did he really serve her the same drink one year ago? Nathan had served her a number of cocktails and drinks over the years of course, and she never remembered all the names of them. He just seemed to be able to remember which ones she enjoyed and which ones she didn’t. But she remembered the taste of this one; Nathan mixed this one for her at least once every other month. She looked back at Nathan.

                “What’s this one called?”

                “A Maiden’s Blush.” He answered without missing a beat. She felt herself freeze up for a moment and tried to stop the blush from forming on her own face. Did he really just say that?

                “You’re pulling my leg here, aren’t you?” she asked.

                “Nope.”

                Lucy fell silent again. “That is a strange name for a cocktail.” She muttered before taking another sip.

                Nathan shook his head as he smiled. “Should have told you that when I served you the first time, huh?” He said, humor still colouring his voice.

                “Don’t worry about it. I just didn’t expect a drink to have such a… girly name.” She explained. Nathan laughed again as he started mixing an order for one of the waiters.

                “I can understand that. I know I’m surprised when I learn that some fandom has created a cocktail for their favorite characters.”

                She quirked an eye-brow, an ‘oh-really?’ expression on her face. He just shrugged as he finished the order and Lucy shrugged and took a sip of her cocktail. A laugh left her as she watched the young waiter give them a confused, slightly unsure look before walking away. Lucy looked back at Nathan, giving him a smile that he easily returned. She held up her cocktail glass, and after a few moments of confusion, he did the same with his bottle of water.

                "A toast. To a year of friendship.” She said, a little tentative.

                “A year of good times here in the bar.” He added as they toasted their respective beverages. “May the following year be just as good.”

* * *

 

                “Rise and shine!” Vidic called out merrily, effectively startling Desmond from his mostly dreamless sleep. “We’ve got –“

                The old man was cut off by the pillow Desmond had thrown at his face.

                “ – quite a day in front of us.” Vidic finished flatly. “We need to do something about that attitude of yours Mr. Miles.”

                “Har, har. Apparently you’re in a good mood.” Desmond grumbled as he sat up and slowly got off the bed, making his way to the closet for a new shirt.

                “Miss Stillman has made some modifications to the Animus. You should be able to stay inside even longer now.” Vidic smirked, taking a sip of his coffee.

                Desmond gave him a look of disgust. Why would anyone want to stay in the machine even longer? If the damned thing wasn’t so important at this moment, he would have gladly dismantled it for the Templars. A tiny voice in the back of his mind told him that he could still kill the older man and destroy the machine with his bare hands, mission be damned. Desmond felt a chill of unease sliver up and down his spine. For the first time since he got here, he understood why Lucy was terrified of the Bleeding Effect. That tiny voice was not him and he wondered if that was the Bleeding Effect was starting to take effect, starting to show. This couldn’t be good. He was going to have to try and find a way to talk to Lucy directly.

                “Oh joy. I get to help you with your treasure hunt even more now. Just what I always wanted to do.” Desmond said, not even bothering to keep the sarcasm subtle.

                “This is serious business, Mr. Miles. I don’t think you fully appreciate the work Abstergo does.” Vidic shot back, giving him a glare.

                “Maybe because I actually don’t know whatever the hell it is you people do.” He growled back, quickly throwing on a shirt and pushing past Vidic to leave the bedroom. Desmond had to hold back the smirk as he successfully pick-pocketed the old man. It was almost too easy. The tiny voice in the back of his head agreed; Desmond could almost hear the smirk in its voice.

                “We change the world.” Vidic began, following him to the Animus. “Every day, in a hundred –“

                “Save me the lecture. Let’s just get this over with.” Desmond spat. He looked over at Lucy and almost felt bad for verbally sparring in front of her. She looked worried and a little startled on top of that. But she was looking at him kind of funny as well. He wondered what it could be about and made a mental note to ask her later. Maybe. If he remembered. The tiny voice seemed to chuckle, laugh at his expense, and Desmond shoved it away. He decided that it was probably better to focus on asking her about his new found… acquaintance first than about some strange look she seemed to be giving her.

                “M-morning, Desmond.”

                “Mornin’, Lucy.” He didn’t miss the slight hiccup in her voice. That was stranger. That little hiccup mostly happened when she was nervous. His mind cycled through possible reasons as to why she was nervous. Did she see him steal Vidic’s datapen? Most likely not. There was a giant piece of hardware blocking part of the door. He wanted to ask her, but he really couldn’t. Not when he had made a bit of a show of just wanting to get today’s session done.

                “Before you start, I wanted to let you know I grabbed things for our after party.” Lucy said quietly, giving him a quick wink and smile. He chuckled as he hopped onto the Anime and laid down.

                “Beam me up, Scotty!” he said as she began the usual prep.

                “You know that was never actually said in the show, right?” Lucy informed him; he could practically hear her roll her eyes.

                Desmond just rolled his eyes. “So you’re secretly a Trekkie?” he joked.

                She scoffed, but he heard the laugh she was holding back, “Like how you’re secretly a Brony?”

                “Oh, ouch! Low blow, Luce.” He looked up at her, watching her shake her head and smiling as she finished setting up the Animus. For a moment he had the distinct feeling that this was familiar, her standing over him and smiling.

                “Alright, we’re all set to go.” Lucy announced, “Ready.”

                Desmond nodded, and the strange feeling nostalgia left him and he pushed it aside. He needed to focus on the task at hand; he could worry about other things later. Now if he remembered his father’s history lessons (which often than not ended up being family history lessons), he would be hunting down Abu’l Nuqoud next. Maybe he would get some ideas from Altaïr to help build his escape plan.

                _Well, only one way to find out._

* * *

 

                Lucy nearly panicked when she saw a far too familiar datapen peaking out of Desmond’s pocket. When the hell did he get Vidic’s datapen? She glanced over at where she had last seen Vidic, slightly relieved to see he was busy with paper. Carefully and quickly she pulled the datapen from Desmond’s pocket and hid it in the one place she could actually hide it, in her cleavage. She bit back a groan of displeasure as she buttoned up her shirt to cover her bust more.  If it was one thing Lucy hated doing, it was stuffing things in her cleavage or bra. It made her feel like she was white trash, or a cheap whore. But there was no way in hell she was going to let Desmond get caught by Vidic. She risked another glance at the old man before returning her attention to her console and checked Desmond’s status and vitals.

                She sighed in relief as everything checked out just fine and decided to make use of some of the down time. She skimmed through the work emails before checking the spam box. She was surprised to already see emails address to Desmond (from Shaun and Rebecca of course). She had to hold back her laughter as she recognized Shaun’s Penis Enlargement email, but wondered why Desmond hadn’t read the email from his father.  Lucy found herself frowning a little as she debated whether or not she should read it. She clicked on it hesitantly, unsure if she really wanted to know the email’s contents. She glanced down at Desmond before making up her mind. If it appeared private, she would close it. If it was something she needed to know, she would read it. She took a deep breath to steady her nerves as she returned her attention back to the screen.

                _Desmond & Lucy,_

_I’m sending out a team to help you escape if need be. They will be sent to your regional support. Please send word as soon as you possibly can._

_-W.M._

                Lucy felt her blood run cold. She reread the message twice. Was he nuts? Sending a team? That had to be the worst idea anyone could have at this moment. She could understand that William was concerned for his son, but the Brotherhood wasn’t in a position to take such risks! A rescue mission into any Abstergo or Templar headquarters would be a suicide mission. Didn’t she tell William that Desmond had a plan? She looked back at Desmond and silently cursed her modifications. She also wished he had worn that hoodie of his. It was a little difficult to not look at him. After-all, that shirt he had on left nothing to the imagination.

                She brought up the progress screen, not too surprised to see Desmond heading out to assassinate Abu’l Nuqoud. If it was one thing Lucy was always impressed and surprised with was how fast Desmond synched with Altaïr’s memories. She frowned a little. Now that she thought about it, she had never really seen Desmond in action. Lucy had always assumed, knew that he was skilled enough to be trusted for an undercover assignment but she had no clue how good his combat or parkour abilities were. Doubt in whatever plan he had began to seep into her mind a little, but they settled a little as she studied his form a little. She couldn’t doubt his strength. The defined and toned muscles in his arms and torso showed it, and she had seen him break apart the few and rare brawls in the bar. She bit back a groan of frustration.

                _I hope you have a decent plan up your sleeve, Desmond._

                “How’s Subject 17’s progress, Miss Stillman?” Vidic asked as he strolled over to stand next to her, peering down at Desmond like he was insect. “Any closer to our target memory?”

                Lucy brought up the viewing screen, “He’s almost at Abu’l Nuqoud’s palace. If the research is correct, Altaïr’s next targets should be William of Montferrat, Majd Addin, Jubair, Sibrand, and then Robert de Sable.” She didn’t bother looking at Vidic; she was too busy watching Desmond sneak into Abu’l’s party.

                “And of course after that, Al Mualim.” She could almost hear the smug-like smirk on Vidic’s face. “It’s a shame that he wasn’t able to finish what he started. To think of how different the world would be today.”  He sighed, “Oh well! Hopefully your modifications will hold out so we can shorten that list considerably and meet the deadline.”

                “They’ll work.” Lucy wished she didn’t sound as confident as she did. She looked away from the viewing screen and back over at Desmond. She was worried. As much as she tried to keep Desmond’s time in the Animus limited, she knew he was still at risk for the Bleeding Effect. Even more so now thanks to her. She cursed herself, wishing more than ever that she could just leave.  All she could hope was that he would at least tell her if he noticed anything abnormal with himself, mentally that is.

                “You better hope so.” She heard Vidic muttered as he walked away; Lucy assumed that she wasn’t supposed to hear that comment.

                She watched as Abu’l fell and leave Altaïr with more questions than answers. _Four down, six to go._   She eyed the memory blocks at the bottom of the screen, mainly the block that signified Altaïr’s run-in with Robert de Sable. Or more specifically, Altaïr’s first meeting with Maria Thrope. That was the one memory Lucy was actually interested in.  Altaïr and Maria’s story, tragic as it had ended, was famous and told to nearly every young girl born into the Assassin Order. And even though she knew it was childish, Lucy wanted to see exactly how the famous couple’s first meeting truly went. After-all, time had a way of exaggerating stories.

                The day moved on slowly as she continued to watch Desmond’s progress and worked on some paper work. Lucy tried not to think about William’s email, she had to at least tell Desmond about it. If William Miles was still the type of man as she remembered him to be, the lack of reply from either of them would only spur him into action. A sigh past her lips as she took notes on Desmond’s progress, recording anything that the Templars would find of use so that way she could send it off to Shaun and Rebecca.

                “Miss Stillman, pull him out.” Vidic growled.

                Lucy jumped; her gaze tore itself away from her work as she turned to look at Vidic. This had to be a first; she never remembered a time when Vidic was the one who demanded someone to be pulled out of the Animus.  “S-Sir?”

                “Pull him out, Miss Stillman.” He repeated.

                She nodded slowly and began the ejection process, confused and concerned. Lucy tried not to look behind her as she listened to Vidic pace and mutter under his breath. A number of things passed through her mind. The first that stuck out was the fear that Templar agents discovered the extraction team. She fought down the dread she felt, praying that wasn’t the reason why the session was ending suddenly. The second fear was that someone up top had discovered that Desmond was an active member of the Assassin’s. Or worse… she pushed her nerves aside, focusing on her current task.

                “We done already?” Desmond asked groggily, letting Lucy help him sit up.

                “Get up!” Vidic snapped before answering his phone, “I’m ending the session. I’ll be there. You’re sure about this?”

                Desmond nudged Lucy to gain her attention, giving her a questioning look and tilting his head towards the old man. She didn’t miss the concern in his eyes. She shook her head and shrugged, worry clear on her face. He frowned, his attention returning to Vidic. Lucy jumped slightly as Vidic angrily slammed the phone down.

                “Doctor Vidic?” Lucy said as evenly as she could. The old man glared at her and Desmond.

                “I’m needed for a meeting. Consider yourself lucky, Mr. Miles. We’re done for the day.” And with that, Vidic stormed out of the room and into the conference room. It took the pair a few moments to recover as they waited with bated breaths for something, anything, to happen. They looked at one another, dread filling Lucy again and confusion and frustration evident on Desmond’s face.

                “Do you think he’s meeting with silurians right now?” Desmond asked softly, attempting to lighten the heavy tension in the room.

                Lucy gave him a disapproving frown before pulling up William’s email. She watched his faced as he read it; his face went from confusion, to surprise, and then finally concern and possibly panic. He looked back at her and they both glanced over at the conference room door.

                “Cover me.” He whispered. She didn’t have much time to react as Desmond almost immediately started to type furiously. Lucy kept a watchful eye on the doors, ready to a hip check him if any of the doors opened. She glanced at one of the cameras; she was going to have to try and delete any incriminating footage of them. Hopefully Rebecca would be able to help her with that, or maybe she was already on top of that.

                _“Do you think they know?”_ Desmond asked quietly.

                _“I don’t know.”_ She whispered, _“I hope not.”_ Lucy felt her nerves grow when her phone began to ring. Lucy looked over at him. To anyone else, his face would have seemed stony, unfeeling. But she could see how he was worried, concerned. She could practically see the gears turning, trying to figure out where this new piece fit in the puzzle.

                _“Go ahead. If you don’t, there’ll be more reason for them to be suspicious of either of us.”_ He murmured.  _“I can handle myself here.”_

                Lucy nodded, answering her phone. “Yes?”

                “Miss Stillman! I need to speak with you. Get up here, now!” Vidic snapped on the other end.

                “On my way, Doctor.” Lucy said evenly, trying to stop the way her blood ran cold. She hung up her phone, a shaky breath leaving her as she did so.  She looked over at Desmond, who was searching for something in his pockets. For a moment, she wondered what he was searching for until he gave her a questioning look and she remembered. Quickly she undid some of the buttons on her blouse and pulled out Vidic’s datapen. She handed the datapen and her clipboard over to Desmond. Lucy had to fight back the blush as chuckles escaped Desmond’s throat.

                “Um… See ya tomorrow?” he said.

                She nodded, “Be sure to get some rest, Desmond. Okay?” He nodded, “And, uh… be sure you put on something a little warmer, alright?” Lucy didn’t bother to look back as she rushed off, as fast as her heels would let her, to see what Vidic wanted.


	5. On the Edge

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just so you know, I'm still looking for an editor/beta reader.

                It was too dark. Even with the street lights, it was too dark for Lucy’s taste. She looked over her shoulder for what felt like the hundredth time that night. A part of her wished she was still on the bus or in a cab. Though what she really wished was that she didn’t have to wear the long, brown wig and club-wear. But Nathan had insisted, saying it would help keep Templar agents in the dark. So here Lucy was, trying to act causal as she headed to the night club he had instructed her to meet him at. The pulsing beat could be heard from a block away.

                Lucy swallowed back her nerves as she approached the side entrance of Bad Weather. The large man standing next to the door eyed her up and down before asking for I.D. and her name. She handed him the false I.D. Nathan had slipped in with her bill last night.

                “Noct said to use this entrance.” Lucy said, doing her best to sound confident. The man nodded before handing back the I.D. card and opened the door.

                “Bar’s straight back. Can’t miss it.” He grunted before closing the door behind her.

                The music was overwhelming now that she was inside. There were a large number of people on the dance floor, swaying, bumping and grinding to the techno beat. Those who weren’t on the dance floor were either slowly drinking themselves into a stupor or making out with someone. Lucy wouldn’t lie, seeing couples going at it always seemed a little disgusting. It always looked like one or both of them were trying to consume the others face. But that wasn’t her concern tonight. She looked around, easily spotting the bar. With a deep breath she made her way across the dance floor, slapping and shrugging off hands that got too close for her comfort. She tried not to think about how she was worried about the wig falling or how it seemed to make everything too warm.  Or how the dark skinny jeans on her legs seemed designed to constrict movement.

                Lucy let out a sigh of relief as she finally reached the bar. She ordered the cheapest, simplest martini that she could find as she took a seat, doing her best to ignore a drunk on her left. It helped that she couldn’t really hear him over the blaring techno. Her appreciation for the small, quieter Pen & Ink became even greater as she took a sip of her drink. She doubted she would have even enjoyed Bad Weather in her college days.

                An arm suddenly crept around her shoulders, causing Lucy to tense. The owner of the arm plucked her martini out of her hands and she heard him take a sip.

                “You know, a beautiful lady such as yourself shouldn’t be having such plain drinks. You look like the type of girl who enjoys something with flavor.”

                Lucy turned her head to see Nathan behind her and she relaxed a little. He made no move to take any of the empty seats next to her; he just ordered them another round of drinks.

                “Is that the best you can come up with?” she asked over the music, turning around in her seat to face him. Nathan smiled and shrugged before returning his attention to the bartender making their drinks. The black leather jacket appeared to be just a size too big for him and Lucy envied the fact he was able to wear the relaxed fitted jeans that permitted more movement.

                “Oh, I’m sure you’ve heard worse.” He chuckled as he leaned against the bar counter.

                Lucy laughed and took a sip of her new cocktail. She liked the taste of this one. She made a quick mental note to ask Nathan to mix her one at the Pen & Ink before tapping her left index finger on the bar twice, resting her cheek in her right hand. Lucy saw the change in his gaze. He took his time as he took a drink of his cocktail. And with a tap of his right thumb, it was time for business.

                “I’m sure your date wouldn’t appreciate you chatting up other girls.”

                _Is it just you here?_

                “I’m sure you won’t mind being my date for the night.”

                _Just me. Yourself?_

                “And how do you know I’m not waiting for someone more attractive than you?”

                _I don’t believe I was followed._

                Nathan smiled and leaned closer to her and she mirrored the action. “Because what kind of man leaves a pretty girl waiting all alone at the bar of the hottest night club in town?”

_Sorry for making you wait._

                Lucy hoped that he wouldn’t be able to tell she was blushing. “Then I think I’ll take up your offer of being your date for the night.” She leaned in even closer to Nathan, doing her best not to look around for suspicious people as he wrapped an arm around her waist. Suddenly this seemed like a bad idea. Everything that could go wrong started to flash through her mind. And then it didn’t help that Nathan’s close proximity caused her nerves to go into overdrive.

                “Calm down. This place is clean. Just taking the necessary precautions’.” He said lowly in her ear, giving her waist a gentle squeeze. She was sure it was supposed to be a comforting action, but her memory kept playing the incident after the Animus was completed. Darkness, laughter, fear… Lucy shut her eyes quickly, forcing the memory back. Nathan wasn’t going to hurt her; this was no time for her to get caught up in the past.

                “Sorry, just worried.” Lucy replied as she calmed down.

                “I know. I am too.”

                She felt Nathan turn her a little and she followed the cue. She turned the rest of her body towards him, lifting herself out the seat a little as his hands slipped into the back pockets of her jeans. Lucy failed to suppress a shudder as she felt him place a trail of light kisses from the crook of her neck to her ear.

                “You have it with you?” Nathan asked.

                She turned away from him, facing the bar counter again. “Left front pocket. Be careful, it’s small.”

                He wrapped an arm around her waist again while his other he and pressed against her stomach and pushed her back up against him. The hand on her waist crept lower and carefully slid into her pocket. It took him longer to get a grasp on it that she thought, making her rest a hand on top of the one on her stomach. She heard Nathan let out a small string of curses.

                “Jesus. How damn tiny is this thing?”

                “It’s the size of a Vita memory card. Easy to hide and easy to get rid of.” He let out a few more grumbled curses before she moved his hands away. “Let me.”

                Lucy stood up out of her seat, took his hand and led him towards the darker outskirts of the dance floor.  She fished out the tiny memory chip before they started awkwardly swaying to the beat. He placed his hands on her hips as she wrapped an arm around his neck; carefully, she placed the memory chip in one of his pockets.

                “So it has everything we need on it?”

                “Yes. All their targets, credit card numbers, what and who they’re bringing. I just hope we’re fast enough.” Lucy swallowed down her worry.

                “This should help. Do you remember how many cells they were targeting?”

                “Ten, fifteen maybe. It’s bad, Nathan. Really bad. If they –“

                “It’ll be okay. We’ll get this to the higher ups, get people out and hopefully, maybe put a dent in their forces.”

                She just nodded, unsure if everything was going to work out. After-all, Lucy only stumbled across the information by chance when she was gathering files that Vidic needed for a meeting. But she had to keep faith. If she hadn’t stumbled across the information then the chances for the target assassins to survive such a raid would have dropped dramatically.

* * *

 

                Lucy did her best to appear calm on the outside. If she let her nerves show in front of any Templar, they could possibly become more suspicious. Lucy wasn’t an idiot. She knew that Vidic had to be at least questioning the true nature of her relationship with Desmond. With a deep breath to steady herself, she entered the main conference room. Vidic stood at the head of the table, frowning at something on the laptop in front of him. She stood there for a few quiet moments as Vidic sipped his coffee, not making a move to acknowledge her.  Irritation nipped at her heels. She knew this game and, unfortunately, she would have to play it.

                “Sir?” No reply. “Doctor Vidic? You wanted to speak with me?” Lucy waited patiently as Vidic made a show of finally giving her his attention.

                “Ah, Miss Stillman. You certainly took your time.” Vidic drawled. “It’s about Subject 17. What do you know of him?”

                Lucy felt her blood run cold. “I don’t know very much about him, sir. Just what was in his file and a few things he’s told me.” She didn’t like this. There was too much room for interpretation, too much at stake.

“Is that so?”

“Yes, sir. He’s never really told me anything about his personal life.” She fought back the hiccup that threatened to escape, keeping her voice even. “Is there a reason behind all this questioning? Something I should be informed of?”

He studied her for a moment, his expression seemed unreadable. “My superiors have started questioning if your presence is truly needed. If your…relationship, if you can call it that, with Subject 17 is beginning to get in the way of your work.”

Lucy’s heart jumped into her throat and started beating like mad. She tried to find the right combination of words, the best way to shove away the suspicion.

“Don’t worry, Miss Stillman. I put their thoughts at ease. For now at least.” Vidic said, making his way towards her. “After-all, I highly doubt that one of our technicians from the Animus Training Program are completely familiar to the set up and power of the machine we use. We would just fall further behind our schedule.”

“I wasn’t aware we were that far behind.” Lucy replied calmly, warily watching Vidic. She did not like where this conversation seemed to be going.

“Not as behind as before, thanks to your modifications of course.” He stood in front of her for a moment before he started circling her, “My superiors would like to resubmit their offer to you, Miss Stillman. And I must say, it’s quite a handsome offer. They’d like to make you head of the Animus Training Program, and allow you into some of our highest ranks.”

This again. They were trying to tempt her to join them. For a brief moment she wondered if she would have lasted this long without Desmond’s support. “You know the answer, Vidic. It’s been the same for the past six years.”

Vidic sighed dramatically. “Come now, Miss Stillman! You and I have seen it time and time again, thanks to the Animus. A thousand years between Altaïr and his descendant, and society remains just as barbaric. Just as stupid! The world needs order, direction and we can give it! Think of all the petty disputes and squabbles, all the mindless violence we can end!”

“By effectively taking away any free will that someone might have.” Lucy spat out.

“Oh, you make it sound so harsh, Miss Stillman. Like all we want is power. What we’re doing is for the good of humanity. We’re striving to build a better future, a better world.”

“The answer is no, Doctor Vidic. Now if you excuse me, I have some paper work that needs to be completed.” Lucy turned away and made for the door.

“I don’t think you truly understand your situation, Miss Stillman.” Vidic said suddenly, making her stop. She glanced at him over her shoulder. “My superiors were willing to temporarily put their concerns aside when I informed them that Subject 17 will be more cooperative with your presence. However, I would like a straight answer from you. How much do you _actually_ know?”

“Sir?”

“Don’t play coy with me, Miss Stillman. For seven years you’ve been my assistant in this project; I’ve learned a thing or two about your habits. And you’re hiding something, Miss Stillman.” The man’s gaze was hard and piercing, trying to make her crack.

Lucy matched his gaze. She wasn’t going to back down. She had played this game for nearly seven years and she could play it all day if she had too. But Lucy could feel the fear starting to ease its way into her.

“I’m going to give you this one chance, Miss Stillman. One chance to tell me exactly what you know about Desmond Miles. One chance to tell me what he has planned.”

Lucy’s blood didn’t just turn cold again, it froze. This was more than bad. This was the very thing she had been fearing when Desmond was brought in. Warren Vidic had to be more than suspicious. Did he know? How much did he know?

“I’m sorry, Doctor Vidic. But my friendship with Desmond is mostly superficial. Now if you excuse me, I have a lot of work to do.”

“I see then.”

Lucy calmly walked out of the room, her pace began to increase as she walked past her cubical, past the elevators and into the unused stairwell. She held onto the rail, doing her best not to trip over her own feet as she hurried down the stairs. How were they going to get out of this? Lucy stumbled and she barely paused to regain her balance. She stumbled again and she caught herself on the wall. She was breathing heavily, chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. Lucy laid her head again the wall, the cool surface doing little to settle her nerves.

She tried not to let her fear take hold of her. It would do her no good if she let that emotion take control. But Lucy couldn’t fight it back. Yes, she had always been worried that Vidic had suspected something. That fear had always been there. But she always had someplace where she felt safe, where she didn’t have to act strong and unaffected by the things around her. But it was gone now. Her fears were confirmed and she couldn’t go to the bar and sort through her emotions. Her backup was trapped in this hell-hole with her. Lucy had no idea of how much time she and Desmond truly had now. She looked back up the stairs, tempted to go check on Desmond. To let him know that Vidic was now onto them, on the watch. But that would make matters worse, no doubt.

She turned around, letting her back rest again the cold wall. She felt herself slide down. They only had two days left and Lucy wondered if she was now starting to reach her breaking point. She had no doubt that the Templars would kill Desmond by the end of this now. And Lucy had the sinking feeling that she would joining him shortly after.

* * *

 

“…We’re close.”

“…not a lot of time, Vidic.”

Desmond rubbed his eyes, feeling disorientated. The morning hadn’t been kind to him thanks to his long evening digging through the old man’s files. He didn’t bother to try and listen to Vidic’s conversation. Desmond was busy trying to ignore that tiny little voice that had made its presence known yesterday. Without anyone to talk to and anxiously waiting for a reply from his father, that tiny voice had bothered him all night. It commented on everything. From the content in Vidic’s files and emails, to the symbols that Clay had painted in his own blood, and even how it would be wise to escape in the middle of the night. Desmond was beginning to understand how Clay found that suicide was his only option.

He looked over at Lucy. She had been unusually quiet today and seemed like she hadn’t slept for days. He knew it had something to do with last night’s meeting with Vidic. Though it had been a strange morning for him too. The old man hadn’t bothered to try and wake him up that morning. He had simply snapped at Desmond to get into the Animus, while Lucy had shook her head at him when he tried to talk to her.

“I’ve… got some work I need to do. So you’ve got the rest of the night to yourself.” Vidic announced as he headed out of the room.

“Is everything alright?” he asked her as he carefully got off the machine.

Desmond watched as she gnawed lightly on her lower lip. She looked up at him for a few moments before glancing around the room. Lucy sighed and shook her head. “No.” she murmured quietly.

He looked over to the door that Vidic had used as his exit. Looking back at Lucy had confirmed his suspicion that had been building in his gut since the night before; Vidic knew something and he was trying to threaten Lucy.

“Didn’t get a lot of sleep it looks like.” Desmond commented softly, leaning against the Animus. She looked back at him as he tapped his fingers against the machine.

_Does he know?_

Another sigh past her lips before she answered. “No. I didn’t.” She didn’t signal anything back and Desmond felt worry nip at his heels.

_We’ve got to get out of here._

“Deadline pressure catching up to you, then?”

“Something like that.”

He tapped his fingers again as silence fell between them.

_Does he know?_

He watched Lucy as she clicked her pen a few times.

_I think so._

Shit. He tried not to look around or let him panic seep out. _At least that explains the quiet morning I got today._

“So yesterday you said something about getting supplies for our little ‘after party’?” Desmond said, hoping to lighten Lucy’s mood a little. And the promise of alcohol after stressful things tended to put people in a better mood. She gave him a small, weary smile for his efforts and nodded. “Did ya bring it with you?”

She laughed and the sound put Desmond at ease a little. “Really, Desmond? You expect me to bring booze to work?”

“Just wanted to see what you got.”

“Sure…” she drawled, her tone and the look she was giving him told him she didn’t believe him.

He laughed, but the good mood seemed to stay only for a little while. The reality of their situation slowly reared its ugly head again. Desmond noticed as Lucy glanced around the room again. He could have sworn that she was trembling slightly. But it was clear that Lucy was scared. He knew that she had been worried about Vidic discovering her true affiliations. She had told him that much during their weekly conversations. But her behavior right now… Vidic must have finally confronted her about it. Desmond didn’t doubt that Lucy was able to keep her cool in front of the old man, but he could tell that the stress of this assignment was starting to get the best of her. And he couldn’t blame her. She really needed a vacation. A very long vacation. He placed a hand on her shoulder, hoping that it would provide some form of comfort. Lucy looked up at him.

“Look at the bright side. We’re almost done and once we’re done, we get to celebrate a little. And I’m pretty sure you’ve earned your fair share of vacation time.” Desmond gave her small smile.

Lucy stared at him, uncertainty shining in her eyes. She glanced over at the Animus. He really couldn’t tell what she was thinking but he could guess. All of this had started with that damned machine. If it hadn’t been invented… Desmond looked back at Lucy. He could wait to tell her about his new, little…friend. She had enough on her plate to worry about. He wasn’t about to add more to it.

Lucy finally nodded, a small smile forming on her face. They stood in a compainionly silence before Lucy’s phone began to ring. He nodded in understanding and left to use the bathroom. Long sessions tended to wreak havoc with his bladder it seemed. When he came back, Lucy was starting to fully shut down the Animus for the night.

“I’m done for the day. Be sure to get some rest, okay?” she announced. He nodded. “And… I’ll bring some of the ‘after party’ stuff tomorrow.”

“Sounds good. I’ll see ya tomorrow.” She nodded as she head to the door. “And Lucy,” she paused, “be sure you get some sleep, too.”

She seemed to freeze for a moment, her cheeks flushed lightly with colour before she nodded and headed out.

_‘Letting yourself get distracted by a woman. You truly are a novice.’_

Desmond clenched his jaw, doing his best to ignore the voice that was starting to sound like Altaïr. He had to remind himself that the Altaïr he was talking to in his head had yet to meet Maria Thorpe. And had yet to enter a relationship with her.

_‘You’ve had every chance to escape and yet you stay! Giving the Templars exactly what they want.’_

_You’re not real._

_‘Just like how the air you’re breathing isn’t real.’_

Desmond wished that his ancestor was still alive so he could punch him.

_‘You need to focus, novice. You risk everything by continuing your friendly interactions with that woman only put both of you in danger. The Templar is already suspicious of you both.’_

Now that, Desmond couldn’t argue with. It would explain why Lucy was so quiet and reluctant to speak today. And she would probably continue the quietness until they left this place. He strolled over to Lucy’s computer and opened the email containing the Abstergo floor plan and guard schedules. He had already had the basics of an escape plan, but he was still working out the finer details. Like how to keep Lucy’s status as a fellow hostage/prisoner. And how to get to the get-away car that Rebecca secured without Templars following them. He sighed; something in his gut told him that he would be improvising a good portion of this escape.

_‘As I said before, you truly are a novice.’_

_If there’s ever a time I want your opinion, I’ll ask you for it._

Yeah… he really needed to talk to Lucy about this.


	6. A Day Away

Lucy thanked Nathan filled her a glass of wine. It was very late at night, or perhaps quite early in the morning, meaning that the bar was empty save for the two assassins and the busboy. The owner was busy in her office, going over the books no doubt. But like this, Lucy and Nathan didn’t have to resort to going into the back alley for their talks. Having to speak in French was a continued habit, though now it had evolved into a mix of Italian and French.

                _“There’s another strike coming up.”_ Lucy began quietly.

                _“Another? Where at?”_ Nathan asked, a little surprised and concerned at the news.

                _“Three cells this time. Sasebo, Japan, Dombai in Southern Russia, and Lawrence, Kansas.”_ She sighed, _“I think they’re really trying to stamp us out.”_

                Nathan nodded and began cleaning some of the glasses the busboy had brought over. _“I’m pretty sure that they’re still feeling the hurt from their first failure.”_ He said with a low chuckle.

                Lucy gave him a small smile before taking a sip for her wine. For the past four months, the Templars had been attempting to wipe out a number of Assassin cells. Lucy didn’t doubt the Templars were trying to completely wipe out the Assassin Order now. She tried not to think about what would have happened if she hadn’t stumbled across the plans for the first strike. The Order was still recovering from the Daniel Cross incident. The Templar strikes though, if they had been successful, would have been more than likely the final blow to the Order. She glanced back at Nathan, trying to decipher his expression. His jaw clenched slightly, his gaze seemingly fixed on the new glass he was cleaning. Lucy could barely see the calculating thought process in his eyes. She debated if she should say something to break the silence between them.

                _“You’re certain it’s those three locations?”_ Nathan asked quietly. She was taken aback a little by the question. But she slowly nodded, glancing around the bar.

                _“What’s wrong?”_ she replied nervously, wondering what Nathan could possibly be implying. Lucy watched as he gnawed slightly on his lower lip, debating if he should tell her what was on his mind. _“Is something bothering you, Nathan?”_

                He sighed and set down the glass he was cleaning, he glanced around before leaning towards her. She felt herself become anxious as she mirrored Nathan’s actions. _“You’re absolutely positive that those are the next targets?”_

                Lucy frowned and nodded, putting the pieces together. _“You think they’re trying to bait us?”_

                Nathan nodded. _“They’re either setting up a series of ambushes or they’re trying to find the leak.”_  Lucy felt worry start to mount. _“I know not every cell has escaped unscathed, but they have to be expecting something by now. I would be completely shocked if they didn’t have something planned by now.”_

_“I’ve been worried about that. For the past couple of months, it seems like they’ve been scrambling. But everything feels off.”_

                Nathan nodded in response, _“Then we definitely need to start taking more precautions. Have you noticed anything strange?”_

                Lucy thought back to the past months, trying to recall anything that would have come off as suspicious. But she had little interaction with other people at Abstergo, and those she did have regular interaction with always made her feel unsettled. She shook her head and sighed. _“Do you know if we have any others in Templar HQ’s?”_

                _“I’m not sure. What are you thinking?”_ he asked.

                _“If we haven’t, we need to be cross-checking these strikes. It looks like they’re trying to find and stop their leaks.”_

                Nathan considered it for a moment before nodding in agreement. _“I’ll get Rebecca on it, and I’ll try to contact the order about any other agents.”_

                Silence fell between them as Lucy finished what was left of her wine, wishing that the manager didn’t just announce ‘last call’.  The pair sighed; Lucy was wishing for another drink while Nathan looked like he had more to say.

                “I’ll call you a cab.” Nathan said quietly, escorting and waiting outside with her after he did so.

                “They’ve brought in someone new.” Lucy said suddenly. Nathan glanced over at her, an eyebrow raised in question. “The boss seems to think he’s more… qualified for the job than some of the pervious interns.”

                He stood there, contemplating for several long moments before nodding. Soon the cab pulled up and Nathan, ever the gentleman, opened the door for her. “See ya next time, Lucy.”

                “Next time.”

* * *

 

                Desmond groaned as he rolled out of the bed. He had stayed up far too late planning his and Lucy’s escape. And there were still some final details to consider. Desmond hoped that he could finish the little details tonight so that way there would be very little improvising. _Maybe I’ll be actually able to sleep tonight._

                “Ah! Good! You’re up!” Vidic said as he walked into the small room. “Time’s wasting, Mr. Miles!”

                “Yeah, yeah. I’m coming.” Desmond grumbled as he pulled on a hoodie.

                “We’re nearly done, you know.” Vidic causally stated, sipping his coffee as he and Desmond walked to the Animus.

                “And then what? I can finally get a drink?”

                Vidic looked annoyed for a brief moment. “You’ll see. Maybe they’ll let you watch it when it begins. It’s not as terrible as you think.” The old man chuckled to himself, looking smug. Desmond held back the dread in his gut.

                “Look, I’m pretty sure you’re not gonna let me leave.” Desmond growled, “So why not tell me what’s going on? Humor me.”

                He heard Vidic snort, “I’m not a fool, Mr. Miles. I think you’ve learned quite a bit already.”

                Desmond’s eyes narrowed at the comment and he did his best to look annoyed. He wondered exactly how much the older man knew and how much was speculation. Vidic glanced back at Desmond, as if he was expecting him to say something in response. He probably should have. He could hear Altaïr muttering about wanting to run his blade through Vidic’s gut. On that, Desmond could agree but that had to be saved for another day. And Desmond highly doubted he would be the one chosen for the task. He strolled over to the Animus, stifling a yawn as Lucy greeted him quietly. He gave her a small nod in return. He didn’t miss the questioning look she sent him.

                _‘She will be fine. She isn’t a novice like you afterall.’_

                Desmond resisted the urge to nod in response to his ancestor’s voice. He had to at least try and do his best to ignore it. If he kept giving it attention, it would probably make the Bleeding Effect worse. But it was hard not to when the voice of Altaïr kept giving good advice. Much needed advice; coming up with escape plans was difficult at times. He glanced briefly at Lucy as she typed away on her keyboard, setting up the day’s session. Once the two of them escaped this place and arrived at the hideout, he’d make sure to have a proper talk with her about the Bleeding Effect. Desmond let out a quiet sigh as the Animus started up. Only one more day of this and then they could leave.  He hoped that his plan would work.

* * *

 

                Lucy tried to keep her eyes on the monitors, but her gaze kept trying to fall back on Vidic. She kept hearing the usual sounds she associated with him working, but she wondered what exactly he was working on. She also wondered what all the phone calls were about and who they were from.  It could possibly be from the higher-ups, asking for progress reports and such. But she doubted that. Lucy glanced down at the large canvas bag by her feet, doing her best to keep its contents from rattling against each other. Maybe bringing alcohol was a bad idea; she really wanted a Midori sour.

                She sighed as she returned her attention to the monitors. At least today she would bet to see how Altaïr and Maria met. All the stories she had heard had undoubtedly romanticized and she was a little eager to see how the famous couple’s first meeting went.  Lucy doubted that it was love at first sight, as some retellings seem to make it sound, not after watching Altaïr’s memories for the past few days. She highly suspected that it would be distrust at first sight, much like it was for her and Desmond. Well, distrust and wariness on Lucy’s half and trust on Desmond’s.

                She glanced over at Desmond’s seemingly sleeping form. She couldn’t help but wonder what he had planned. Rebecca had sent her a warning. A message really, if it could be called that. ‘Act scared’ was all that it said. Lucy frowned slightly as thought back onto it.  ‘Act scared’? Act scared of what?” was this a part of Desmond’s escape plan? What the hell kind of escape plan was he planning? Lucy shook off the thought as she watched Altair approach and blend in with the funeral attendees, carefully paying attention to the memory play out before her. She watched as a disguised Maria Thorpe engaged Altaïr in battle after he had been called out by the priest. It was entertaining to watch Altaïr’s reactions discovering Maria than Robert de Sable. The shock was something Lucy already knew would be there, and the frustration in the man’s voice was evident. But Lucy wondered what this one moment meant for Altaïr and Maria. Obviously it was a very impressionable first meeting. Altaïr had gone to kill a Templar and Maria had probably prepared to meet her end but hopeful to kill Altaïr.  And at the end of this encounter, neither of them had accomplished what they had hoped to. She watched a Maria’s eyes widen slightly as Altaïr stated the he wouldn’t kill her, and Lucy let a small smile spread across her face.

                Before she could give the moment any more thought, a small orange light began blinking. A slight panic began to grip her and she quickly opened the Animus’s coding. Quickly she found the coding that was starting cause lag when Desmond tried to do something that required a large amount of effort.  Thankfully it was nothing that would put him in any immediate danger, but there was always a possibility that it could lead to more serious problems with the Animus. And serious problems with the Animus always, always put the person inside it in danger. Lucy glanced back at Desmond, lightly gnawing on her bottom lip. As long as she began working on the issue now, it should hopefully keep any problems at bay.

                _Besides, it’s just a little bit of coding gone awry, nothing too hard to fix._ Lucy told herself.

                “Something wrong, Miss Stillman?” Vidic suddenly asked.

                “Just a little coding error, doctor. It’ll be fixed without too much issue.” She replied coolly.

                Fifteen minutes later, Lucy regretted saying that.  Soon after she had replied to Vidic, problems had begun pooping up in different areas. Items not loading properly, the translating program started to drop in the middle of sentences, and the lag had gotten worse.  At the rate the errors were occurring, she didn’t doubt that Desmond was entering a serious danger zone. Any longer and he could begin having involuntary body movements, or even worse- psychosis. She had to pull him out now. Vidic nearly threw a fit, as expected.

                “Do you want to find your artifact or not? Because if you don’t, I won’t bother fixing the damn thing!” Lucy snapped.

                She didn’t wait for an answer and removed Desmond from the Animus. He was groggy, of course, but what worried her more was the slight fever he seemed to be running.

                “How long is this going to take, Miss Stillman? You know we can’t afford any delays.” Vidic growled.

                “We should be ready to go tomorrow morning.”

                “That’s cutting it a little close, isn’t it?”

                “Considering the Animus nearly overheated a moment ago, I’ll risk missing the deadline instead of losing everything.” She growled back before turning her attention to Desmond, “You okay?”

                He nodded, “Yeah. Just need to rest, drink some water. Probably take a shower, too.” She tried not to face-palm as Desmond took a sniff of his underarms.

                “Are you sure?” Lucy asked quietly.

                He nodded again, “Don’t worry I’ll be fine. See ya in the morning.”

                She nodded back and watched as Desmond slowly shuffle his way back to his room. And all she could do was hope that everything went smoothly and that they would actually have a chance to escape.


	7. Escape

“Are you mad?!” Shaun asked. Desmond gave him an annoyed look. “No, seriously. Are. You. Mad?”

                “Yes. Apparently I’m crazy, now shut up and help me with this thing!” Desmond replied as he began moving a pallet of supplies. Shaun shook his head as he moved over to Desmond to help him with the pallet jack.

                “So, what? You plan to stroll in there and go ‘Hello! I’m here to volunteer for your super-secret project that no one knows about!’? Yeah, I’m sure that’ll go over well. If you don’t get shot after walking through the door.” Shaun remarked.

                Desmond rolled his eyes. “Look, Lucy says that the Templars are getting close to finding the location of a P.O.E. And it’s safe to say they’re going to try and find someone, anyone who has a strong enough connection to those who had a run-in with them.”

                “In other words, anyone who’s a descendant, even remotely, of Altaïr, or Ezio, or any other assassin, is a prime candidate.” Shaun grumbled.

                “Yup. Think of it this way, Shaun. I’ve already got all the training I need, and Lucy is going to need help disappearing whether I’m there or not. Together, we’ll be able to get what we need and slip out.”

                “So you already got an escape plan lined up? Brilliant! I’ll just tell Rebecca to gather the party supplies.” Was Shaun’s sarcastic reply. Desmond gave him another annoyed look. “Oh, don’t tell me –!”

                He looked away, a little sheep-ish, “No escape plan yet. Just a plan to get in. I figure I’m gonna have to be inside to really work out an escape plan. I may be able to gather some good intel while I’m there.” He explained. Shaun was quiet for a good couple of minutes.

                “Alright, alright. I’ll back you on this and I’m sure Rebecca will be all over this, even with the lack of an escape plan. You know, with the chance to get full access to Abstergo tech and all.”

                Desmond gave a small sigh of relief and a small smile, “Thanks man.”

                “But I’m _not_ explaining this to your father. That will be all you, my idiotic friend.” Shaun let out a chuckle as Desmond frowned.

                “Do you think we can get away with _not_ telling him?” Desmond asked hopefully. He loved his father, he really did, but sometimes the old man fought against Desmond taking any high-risk assignments and such. Desmond had to push and fight for months to become Lucy’s support and back-up. In the end, his mother had a ‘talk’ (her words, not anyone else’s) with his father and Desmond made his way to Italy. Even still, William Miles always seemed to panic when Desmond didn’t send a report ‘on time’.

                Shaun rolled his eyes. “You really want to push your luck, don’t you? Because letting yourself get captured by a bunch of Templars, who would love to use you against your family and kill you, and then trying to break out of a Templar strong hold isn’t enough! Not telling your father is sure way of getting others involved!”

                “Ha-ha. Fine. I’ll drop him a note or something. Let him know I won’t be able to contact him for awhile. But can we agree on keeping him in the dark for most of this? The last thing I need is for him to deciding that I need rescuing and sending a shit-ton of people here. That’ll just get all of us killed.” Desmond said and was thankful when Shaun nodded in agreement. “And you know, I like living. Don’t you?” Shaun laughed as they finished up sorting pallets of supplies.

                “You’re going to at least give Lucy a bit of a warning, aren’t you?” Shaun asked later on that night during dinner.

                “Yeah, don’t wanna freak her out too much when you suddenly show up in the Lion’s Den.” Rebecca added before shoving a forkful of salad.

                Desmond thought about it for a moment. He had been debating it for quite some time. Should he really be telling Lucy about this plan? He had spotted a suspicious person coming to the bar every couple of days for the last few weeks. He didn’t doubt it was a scout, either seeing if it was possible to nab him or keeping a set of eyes on Lucy. Whether it was the former or the latter, it was probably not the best idea to try and keep Lucy in the loop. Less of a chance of something going wrong. Less of a chance of them being overheard.

                “I don’t think so. Less people in the loop, the less chance of us falling under immediate suspicion.” He sighed, the other two reluctantly agreeing. “So we’re all in agreement. In approximately two weeks, I’ll get a proper motorcycle license, make myself a nice prime target, and get myself caught by the Templars.”

                “And from there, you’ll gather intel and send it to us and we’ll help find a way to get Lucy and yourself out of there.” Shaun continued.

                “And don’t forget to send me glorious access to Abstergo’s giant database! All the access!” Rebecca cried. Both men chuckled before returning to their dinner, “But you’re still telling your dad.”

* * *

 

                Lucy glared at the digital display of the elevator, her foot nervously tapping. The damned machine didn’t seem to be moving fast enough. She pulled out the Zippo lighter that she had received n the mail that morning. The letter that had come with it was even more cryptic message then the one that Desmond had sent her earlier in the week. A sigh past her lips as the elevator finally arrived to her floor; whether that sigh was that of relief or her holding her breath for too long. Quickly she went to the main Animus room, trying to keep her nerves under control. She was worried about that the Templars had already made their move. That they already begun their quest to retrieve any and all Pieces of Eden they could find. Worried, excited, and terrified at what Desmond could possibly have planned for their escape. She paused outside of the door, her hand hovering over the key-pad. Lucy pulled out the slip of paper that had come with the lighter.

                _What sent Alice into Wonderland?_

                She sighed and stuffed the note back into her pocket and keyed in her pass code.  Something told her that Shaun wrote that one; most likely because whatever Desmond had planned reminded the historical expert of something he had read. After-all, the man had read nearly all the classics. The door opened and the smell of alcohol assaulted her nose.

                “What on earth -?”

                Lucy barely had time to fully register what was going on when suddenly someone grabbed her from behind. A strong hand wrapped around her throat and a strong arm trapped her arms against her sides. She couldn’t stop herself from letting out a scream before the hand around her throat clapped over her mouth.

                “Don’t worry,” Desmond whispered in her ear, “its all part of the plan. I’ve got what we need. Did you bring what was sent?”

                She gave a quick, shallow nod, glancing down at her right side. Quickly, Desmond reached into her right pocket and pulled out the lighter. Without warning he released his hold on her and grabbed her arm tightly, all but dragging her towards the center of the room. The canvas bag, which Lucy had left behind, filled with various alcohol and mixers, was atop the Animus; the mixers had been tossed aside and many of the vodkas, tequilas, and rums opened and emptied. He was quick to grab another bottle and Lucy, in her confused and panicked line of thought, wondered if she had really bought that much alcohol. She watched him pour a large bottle of vodka around the Animus. It was then she realized that the Animus was on and was making a noise that it shouldn’t be making.

                “Here, before I forget.” Desmond tossed her the Animus’s memory core.  She stared at it for a moment before hurriedly shoving it in her pocket. Lucy jumped when the Animus made a high-pitched whine.

                “Desmond…?” she kept looking between him and the violently humming machine. She found herself inching away from the machine, the industrial carpet squelching beneath her feet. The door she had used just moments ago burst opened and a number of guards rushed into the room.

                “Hands up! Miss Stillman! Step away from Subject 17!” one of them yelled, all of them guns raised.

                Lucy was frozen to the spot. She felt herself pale and her legs felt like they weren’t a part of her body anymore. What the hell was she supposed to do? What was she suppose to say? Thankfully, Desmond saved her from having to do anything. She jumped when she heard glass shattering and he grabbed hold of her again. This time, the broken end of the bottle pointed at her throat, his grip around her waist and arms painful. He didn’t have to tell her anything; automatically she grabbed hold of his arm as best as she could, trying to reach the arm holding the makeshift weapon. The guards were shouting at him to drop the weapon and let her go. Vaguely she noticed a guard radioing for backup. She wondered if she should be worried about more guards showing, but Lucy was more worried about the Animus. The machine was getting louder and she could swear that she could feel the heat coming off the machine.

                She felt Desmond let go of her waist and it didn’t click until he held out the Zippo lighter, the small flame standing proudly. Her eyes widened and she started shaking her head.

                “D-Desmond-! Y-You don’t h-have to do this!” Lucy didn’t have to act terrified. She was genuinely questioning her partner’s sanity at the moment, wondering what on Earth had possessed him to do something this stupid and dangerous. She pulled on the arm holding the bottle, trying to get the object as from her neck as possible, trying to be prepared for what was undoubtedly to come next. Lucy could practically see the smirk on Desmond’s face.

                “Enjoy your trip to Wonderland, boys.” He said. And then he tossed the lighter towards the Animus, where it landed on the alcohol soaked carpet, and within seconds lit the room on fire. The chaos seemed to happen in slow motion for Lucy. The fire started to spread across the carpet, followed by the few furnishings, and then the Animus started to spark, encouraging the flames to spread further and higher. Lucy began to wonder why the sprinkler system wasn’t kicking in, but Desmond had no intentions to stay.

                He tossed the bottle at a guard, hitting the poor soul directly in the face. Desmond grabbed her arm again and they ran into the conference room. This room too reeked of alcohol. A lighter was on the table and Desmond was quick to set fire to the floor and a number of chairs. The main fire started to find its’ way into the smaller room, smoke piling in. Lucy was the one to force the door to the fire escape open. It only took them a few flight of stairs to discover nearly every employee was in a panic and trying to flee the building as well. They ran down the steps with the others. Templars and unallied were too busy trying to save their own lives to notice the two assassins. Lucy could have sworn she saw smoke coming from the doors of different fire escapes. Soon they were outside, crowed with dozens of other employees in an alleyway. Many had stopped moving, gawking at the smoke billowing out of the upper windows. Lucy was out of breath as she and Desmond reached the edge of the crowd. She found herself staring at the smoke. Knowing what had caused it, unsure what the next step was.

                “C’mon! No time to waste. The cops are almost here!” Desmond whispered urgently in her ear, tugging on her arm. She turned to look at him, surprised to see his hood up. “Let your hair down.”

                She stared at him blankly for a moment before nodding and following his instructions. They jogged down an adjoining alleyway, the tell-tale sounds of sirens approaching the now burning headquarters of the Italian branch of Abstergo. Both assassins kept looking behind them, hoping that no one had noticed them. Lucy had almost run into Desmond when he stopped suddenly.

                “So… I’m going to assume this is part of Step Two?” Lucy asked quietly as they caught their breath. He nodded, the corner of his mouth twitching upwards. It took her breath away for a moment and settled her fears. She knew that seemingly cocky grin well. Lucy had missed it, wondering if she would ever see it again.  “Want to tell me what the whole ‘Wonderland’ thing was about?”

                Desmond let out a laugh. “Old-ish PC game that takes kind of a dark spin on Alice in Wonderland. The Alice in it finds Wonderland after a fire burns down her home and kills her parents.”

                Lucy just gave a slight nod, before glancing around. She could still hear sirens wailing not too far in the distance. They had to get out of here. “Please tell me you have some way of getting us out of here.”

                He smirked and nodded. The rumbling sound of a motorcycle filled her ears, drowning out the sirens. Lucy glanced back at Desmond. He looked as happy as child on Christmas; eyes shining with eagerness and almost bouncing on his heels with excitement. The motorcycle rounded the corner sharply and stopped directly in front of them. The rider, a young woman, quickly and gracefully got off the bike. Briskly she walked over to them, pulling off her helmet.

                “Sir, Ma’am.” She nodded respectfully in their direction before handing Desmond a large messenger bag and an extra helmet. “Everything’s set and they’re waiting for the two of you.”

                Desmond nodded and began pulling a pair of jackets out of the bag. “Thanks for everything. Make sure your team is out of here before the first hour of tomorrow. Got it?”

                The young woman nodded. She handed the helmet to Lucy. “Welcome back to the field.” She whispered to Lucy.

                She looked at the young woman who was giving her a shy smile. Lucy returned it, thanking her for the helmet. It was a little obvious that this was the young woman’s first mission in the field. The hopeful look on her face reminded Lucy of herself when she was younger, just at the beginning of her training. . Eager to show her worth and how she could be an asset to the Brotherhood. God… that was such a long time ago.

                “One more thing.” Desmond suddenly said, drawing the attention of both women. “I need you to take this to your superior. Tell them to pass this on to the Mentor and be on high alert.” He instructed, handing the young assassin a flash drive. He zipped up the leather jacket. Lucy recognized it from their many meet ups at Bad Weather, to deliver data on raids. He tossed Lucy the extra leather jacket. Lucy glanced over at the motorcycle and suppressed a groan. Reluctantly she pulled on the jacket, mentally preparing herself for the ride. Another glance at Desmond revealed that he was already on the motorcycle. Even though he had his helmet on, she certain that there was a huge grin on his face.

                “C’mon, Lucy! Time to get moving.” Desmond called out. He patted the seat behind him and Lucy groaned.  She pulled on the helmet, taking the seat.

                “Whenever you’re ready.” She sighed, wrapping her arms around his waist. Lucy couldn’t contain her cry of surprise when Desmond started the bike and zoomed off, leaving the young assassin behind.

* * *

 

                Desmond knew he was smiling. Grinning like a madman, no doubt, but who could blame him? After a whole week being trapped in the same set of rooms, with the same people (even if he did like one of them), it felt more than amazing to be out of that building and being free to ride again.  He felt Lucy’s grip tighten on his waist and he chuckled.  He briefly increased his speed and laughed as she tightened her grip even further. She was probably scared that he would collide into something and kill them both.

                _‘Not an unreasonable fear. Your speed will draw attention from city guards, novice!’_

                Desmond just rolled his eyes, ignoring the phantom voice of Altaïr. It was probably bad enough that he was acknowledging the voice with responses every now and then. But he found some humor in the slight panic in Altaïr’s voice. Desmond felt Lucy’s fingers dig into his sides. Okay, so maybe Altaïr was right about the speed. Desmond decreased his speed, hoping that Lucy would loosen her death grip just a smidge. She didn’t. Thank god he was almost to the hideout. As much as he was enjoying the ride, it wasn’t as much when the other person wasn’t enjoying themselves. Eventually he pulled into the hideout and as soon he turned off the bike, he felt Lucy relax.

                “And we’re here.” Desmond announced after pulling off his helmet. He watched her over his shoulder as she pulled off her own protective headgear. It felt like a weight was being lifted off his shoulders as he saw her expression soften and a gentle smile spread across her face as she looked around. 

                “Welcome back, Lucy.” He said softly.

                “It’s good to be home.” She replied in a similar, soft tone. Awkwardly, she got off the motorcycle and Desmond bit back a chuckle. He followed her across the floor, the pair making their way to the second floor. “So what’s next? We can’t stay here forever, especially after that stunt you pulled.”

                Desmond let out a sigh. He had been hoping that Lucy would let herself not worry about Templars and Assassins. Then again, he shouldn’t have expected so much. But right now, he was a little insulted that she called his wonderfully planned escape a stunt.

                “That was an awesome escape plan and you know it.” She gave him a skeptical look. “Oh, c’mon! It was! One for the history books! And you’ll get to be a part of it, too.”

                “Despite the fact I was completely out of the loop until you started using me as a human shield. Oh, and let’s not forget the part where you soaked the room in alcohol and set it on fire!” Lucy said, rolling her eyes, her voice filled with sarcasm.

                He laughed, shaking his head. “It worked! Give it that, at least.”

                “Oh, it worked alright. Worked on scaring me to death.” She scoffed. “You know that could have killed us, right?”

                “Nothing we couldn’t handle.”

                Lucy sighed, “But that whole plan was riding on luck! We could’ve been seen, captured! Who knows what could have happen then.”

                “Then we would have improvised and fought our way out.”

                “Great.” She said dryly, “Just great.”

                Desmond let out another laugh and they continued up the stairs. He kept looking around, smiling at all the familiar sight of stacked crates and pallet jacks, the moving truck that was ready to go at a moment’s notice. He had missed this. And he was certain that Lucy had as well. Desmond quickened his pace as they reached the second floor, excited to see friendly faces again.  He paused though when he noticed that the only footsteps he heard were his. He turned around to see Lucy at the end of the hallway, staring at the double doors at the other end.

                “Lucy?” he walked back towards her. She seemed to barely register that he was in front of her. “Hey, everything okay in there?”

                Her gaze shot up to him. “Everything’s fine…”

                “But…?” Desmond watched her as her gaze fell back to the doors, waiting patiently for her answer.

                “It’s… it’s been so long. I know it’s irrational, but I keep expecting to walk into that damned room. To see Vidic standing there.” She paused for a moment, composing herself. “I just… I don’t…”

                He shifted awkwardly, unsure how to respond. Though he understood. For seven long years, Lucy had to be someone else; she had be on guard nearly every day, every moment she had to be ready for something to go wrong. Worried that she would be discovered, worried for the unfortunate people who ended up being test subjects.  Desmond couldn’t begin to imagine what that must have felt like. He had been able to be himself, more or less, with his work at the Pen & Ink. Even when he had his little side-missions, when he had to have his mind fully on the job, there was still plenty of moments to unwind. Plenty of moments to forget that he was a soldier in a centuries old battle.  He stood there for a moment longer before gently embracing her, feeling her stiffen.

                “We’ll be able to figure it out. You’re not alone anymore. You’ve got more people this time, and you don’t have to spend your money to see me whenever you want.” Desmond said, hoping that it gave her some form of comfort. He felt himself relax as Lucy wrapped her arms around him.

                “Thank you, Desmond.” Lucy let out a soft sigh, her head resting against his chest, her arms wrapped firmly around him.

                Even though he still felt a little awkward (Desmond was more use to giving words of comfort and encouragement), he was glad that Lucy appeared to feel better now. No tears was always a good sign. He pulled her a little closer, happy to finally have her in a safe place. Desmond remembered her telling him how the Templars kept her there, and once again he felt a mixture of emotions. Anger at himself and the Templars who had terrorized her, regret for not being there... At least now she was safe and among friends. He pulled away and gave her a small smile.

                “Come on. We got a surprise for ya.” Lucy let out a groan. “What? It’s a good surprise!” He laughed and started leading the way again, Lucy walked by his side instead of following him.

                “Yeah, well forgive me for being a little skeptical. Your last surprise nearly killed us.” She said dryly.

                “Pfft! I had everything under control! And you know it.” He opened the door and stepped aside. “Ladies first.”

                Lucy rolled her eyes and calmly walked into the room with him close on her heels. He smiled as Shaun and Rebecca rushed over to greet them. Well, Lucy really. Rebecca was quick to give the blonde woman a tight hug.

                “Lucy! It’s been forever!” Rebecca cried, squeezing Lucy tight.

                “My goodness, Rebecca. Let her breathe!” Shaun said, poking at one of the tech girl’s arms, Desmond laughing the whole time.

                “No way! I haven’t seen my buddy for seven years!” she said defiantly.

                Lucy glanced over at Desmond and Shaun for a little help, but they only smiled at her.

                “Any trouble?” Shaun asked quietly, letting out a sigh of relief when Desmond shook his head. “That’s good. We won’t have to worry about your father sending more people.”

                “Everything set up for her?” Desmond asked. Shaun nodded.

                “Oh! We got something extra to celebrate!” Rebecca cried. She let go of Lucy and ran to the mini-fridge, pulling out a white cake box. She quickly set it on the small coffee table and opened it, waving everyone over.

                “You didn’t have to do anything.” Lucy said with a chuckle.

                Rebecca laughed, “Are you kidding? You’ve been working for seven years! It’s time for your day off.”

                “Not a vacation?”

                “Not quite yet, Lucy. But you’ll get it.” Desmond promised. Lucy smiled at him before they both turned their attention back to the cake.

                _Congrats! You can now watch porn whenever you want!_

                Desmond laughed while Shaun and Lucy stared at it with a mix of disbelief and confusion. Rebecca grinned like a mad woman and began cutting into the cake.

                “C’mon guys! Party time!” Rebecca cheered.

                “Seriously? Don’t we have –“ Lucy began.

                “No! No talk of work! Not tonight!” the other woman cried, interrupting Lucy. “Desmond! There’s booze in the mini-fridge! Set everyone up, why don’t ya?”

                He chuckled and shook his head as he headed to said appliance, pulling out the various alcohols within. They drank till they were all pleasantly buzzed and ate the cake down to its crumbs. Shaun and Rebecca were the first to leave. Shaun, being the light weight that he was, need help back to his room. It was entertaining to watch a slightly drunk Rebecca guide a very drunk Shaun out of the room. The sight left both Desmond and Lucy in a fit of laughter. Their laughter died down into comfortable silence. It reminded Desmond of their meetings while he worked at the Pen & Ink. He mixed her another drink.

                “Are you sure we can’t talk about the next step?” Lucy asked, a breathless laugh leaving her.

                “You know, this is _your_ night to relax.” He commented, getting up to grab a hard cider. “Your night not to worry about anything Templar or Assassin.”

                Lucy sighed and Desmond glanced over at her, a touch worried. She had had more to drink than usual. She mostly had mixed drinks, which hardly got anyone drunk.  But Desmond had never seen her at her limit. Not once. So Desmond really didn’t see the harm of letting Lucy having at least two more drinks. “Lucy?”

                “Well, if you want me to relax, I’m going to need a few more drinks. Something stronger than a cocktail.” She finished off her fruity drink. “And I think I’ll start with one of those.”

                She smirked at him and Desmond couldn’t help but laugh. He slid the opened bottle to her, getting himself another one. He could hear Altaïr’s voice chiding him. Telling him that it was foolish for them to become so intoxicated. And in a Templar controlled city, no less. But Desmond ignored it; after tonight, it was probably going to be a long time till they could have another night like this. So he would enjoy this, and hope that Lucy was enjoying herself as well.

                “So how on earth did you come up with that plan?” Lucy asked, “I’m pretty sure that starting a fire is not taught as option number one for escaping.”

                He laughed, “Well, I had to do something!”

                She laughed along with him, “Seriously! What on Earth possessed you to set the whole room on fire?”

                His laughter gently died down as he thought back to that decision. “I was originally going to use you as a hostage. Then Shaun and Rebecca sent me a lay out of the floor plans with the guards patrol schedules and such. And after taking a look at it, I realized that there was no way we were getting out that way. So I thought about, trying to figure what would send everyone in the building out at the same time as us.”

                “A fire.” Lucy finished.

                “The biggest one I could make. With a little help, of course.” Desmond watched as she made the connections.

                “Me bringing flammable alcohol…”

                “And having the backup deliver some interesting packages.”

                “You had people deliver explosives to a Templar headquarters?” Lucy asked in disbelief.

                “Nothing big. Just some packages that would get over looked.” He took a sip of his drink as Lucy continued to look at him in disbelief. “They were out of town.”

                Lucy searched for words, and he wondered if maybe he shouldn’t have told her about the packages. He took another quick sip, hoping he didn’t look as awkward as he suddenly felt. And then she laughed. She tried to stop it, but it only caused her giggle. Desmond smiled, relaxing. It was good to see her smile. Her natural smile. He had seen it a number of times during the past five years, but it was rarely a smile that truly lit up her face. He hoped that he would see more of those smiles, like the one she had now.

                “Well… You were right.” She finally said, “It was an escape plan for the history books.”

                Desmond laughed, almost spilling his cider. “Good to know you agree!”

                She chuckled, “You’re probably going to be very bad influence on the younger generations.” Lucy teased.

                “Or encourage them to do something crazy when the situation calls for it.” Desmond added with a laugh of his own.

                Lucy raised her glass and Desmond followed suit.

                “A toast!” She began, “To the younger generations! May they make smarter decisions than us.”

                “Any may their risky decisions be rewarded greatly!”

                They finished their toast, and proceeded to drink more and more. Lucy’s face became rosier and rosier, much to Desmond’s amusement. It was fun to learn that Lucy was an overly friendly drunk. Her words only slurred in the slightest, and she seemed to smile readily. At some point, Lucy had abandoned her seat across the table for the chair next to him. Every now and then she would hug him, telling him that he was her best friend and he was the greatest bartender in the world. When she nearly fell out of her chair, he decided it was time to call it quits. Even he was on the tipsy side.

                So with very little coaxing, Desmond helped Lucy to her room. Thankfully, she was easy to guide, even with her suddenly becoming a bit clingy. Her exhaustion started to show and he was happy to arrive to her room.

                “Here we are. Hope you find everything to your liking.” Desmond said, turning on the lights. He watched her as she took everything in, nervous for reasons he couldn’t quite pin down. “I asked for some of the back up to grab a few things form your old place today. Well, I asked Shaun and Rebecca to put in the request.”

                “You remembered my quilt.” She said quietly, almost like she was in awe.

                “Huh?” he automatically regretted it. A sniffle reached his ears and he hurried over to her side. “Lucy?”

                She was almost in tears. Desmond wasn’t sure if they were happy tears or not. She suddenly threw her arms around his waist and he could feel tears starting falling onto his shirt.

                “You remembered my quilt. You remembered my mother’s quilt.” She said with a serious of sniffles. “I thought I’d never see it again!”

                Desmond sighed in relief as he realized that Lucy’s tears were happy tears. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, a hand gently patting one of her arms. She was blubbering mess, but a happy blubbering mess. He smiled softly as Lucy slowly calmed down and finally went to bed.

                _‘Hopefully her hangover won’t be too bad tomorrow.’_

                He yawned and headed to his own room. Knowing his luck, he would be making hangover tonics for everyone tomorrow morning.


	8. Unwelcomed Surprises

Desmond double checked everything. Clothes, phone, phone charger, watch, wallet, spare shoes, spare hoodie, plane tickets, address of the temporary apartment, address of the bar… where was the false ID and passport? He looked around the bed, the tiniest bit of dread beginning to form in the pit of his stomach.

                “Missing this?” a gentle voice asked from the door. Desmond turned around to see his mother standing there calmly, ID and passport in hand. He smiled and hugged her.

                “Thanks, Mom.” He said gratefully, taking both items from her and placing them in his wallet. “That would have been awkward to explain.”

                She chuckled and then fell silent. Desmond glanced over at her and noticed the wistful smile on her face. “Come here.” She said softly. He did as he was asked, watching her as she started straightening out the collar of his shirt, messing with his hair, brushing off dust that wasn’t there.

                “It seems like yesterday you barely half my size and trying to climb up the side of the house.” She reminisced, a breathless laugh leaving her. “You almost gave me and your father a heart attack. Now look at you… Not afraid to face anything.”

                He smiled at her, trying to ignore the tears he saw brimming in her eyes. “I’m still afraid of plenty of things. Like Mrs. Davidson’s cooking.” He joked, hoping it would get his mother to smile. It did and Desmond felt a little better.

                “She tries, but it doesn’t always work out.” They shared a laugh before falling silent again.  “I’m so proud of you, Desmond.”

                “I know, Mom…”

                “I just want you to remember to be careful.” She said.

                 Desmond could hear the concern in her voice and he began to feel the guilt build-up again. He nodded, “I know, Mom. I’ll be as careful as I can be.”

                She sighed, “A part of me agrees with your father. Wants to keep you here, but I know you. You’d sneak off in the middle of the night. “

                He smiled at her. “I’d give you a warning. I learned my lesson last time.”

                Silence past between them again. Both of them trying to forget that night all those years ago. His mother embraced him and he eagerly returned it. This would probably the last hug he would get from her in a long time. He felt her pat and rub his back before she gently pulling him away.

                “Go see your father.” His mother instructed. He was about to protest, but she cut him off. “I know it’s probably the last thing you want to do, after he fought tooth and nail. But trust me, in case some _does_ happen, you’ll feel better knowing that you at least said something to him rather leaving without some form of goodbye. No matter how it comes off as.”

                Desmond looked away, feeling unsure that he really wanted to say anything to his father at all. He wasn’t even sure if he wanted to hear what his father wanted to say to him. Their relationship had been steadily improving, but there were still some touchy subjects between them.

                “Go. He’s in his study.” His mother said quietly. He nodded and head downstairs, barely making a sound.

                Desmond could hear the rustle of newspaper as he approached the study. The door half-closed, a single lamp on. He took in a breath, trying to steady his nerves. Why was it that whenever he was standing in front of this door, he was nervous? He knocked on the door frame before carefully opening the door. Just as he suspected, the older man was sitting at the desk.

                Desmond stood in the doorway, feeling like an awkward teenager again. “Hey.”

                His father looked up from his paper. “Hey.”

                They both fell silent, unsure what to say to one another.

                “I, uh… “ Desmond rubbed the back of his neck, trying to find the words he wanted to say. “I’ll be headed out soon. And I, uh… I know you’re not completely on board with this… but I want you to know that I’ll do everything I can to come back in once piece.”

                He couldn’t bring himself to look at his father. Honestly, he was embarrassed by what he had just said. And he wasn’t sure if he wanted to see his father’s expression. There was the rustling of paper and tiniest squeak of the chair, and before Desmond could look back at his father, the older man pulled him into a strong embrace.

                “I know, Desmond. I know.”

* * *

 

                Desmond eyed the Animus 2.0 warily. He knew he had to get back into the Animus to figure out what the Templars were looking for in Ezio Auditori’s memories. But Desmond Miles was not a fan of needles. He could put up with them but huge needles, like the ones Rebecca used for her ‘Baby’, was normally where he drew the line. He groaned as his traitorous imagination brought forth images of it going into his arm.

                “Everything okay, Desmond?” Lucy asked as she walked into the room.

                She looked and sounded infinitely better than she did this morning. She, Shaun, and Rebecca had hangovers of various degrees earlier that morning. So Desmond made the olde hangover tonic cocktail for them. And each of them had declared that he was trying to poison them.

                “Yeah… Yeah. Just trying not to think about the giant ass needle that’s gonna go into my arm in a little while.”

                Lucy smiled at him. “I can understand that. If it’s the only thing I like about Abstergo’s animus is that there are no needles required.”

                He nodded, “So how are you feeling now?”

                “Better than I was this morning.” She answered with a chuckle.

                “What, no jab at my hangover tonic?”

                Lucy laughed, “It’s kind of hard to give you crap about it when it works as advertised. Either way, I should get started on my end.”

                His frowned slightly. “What wonderful task were you assigned?”

                “Going through all the data we sent. I need to weed out all the outdated and irrelevant stuff.” Lucy said with a shake of her head.

                “You know, no one would complain if you took another day off. You’ve earned it.” Desmond sighed. He knew though that she wouldn’t listen to him. Lucy Stillman would ignore him and work until she was finished her task.

                “Desmond…”she began, “You know I’m going to see this all the way through. This was my assignment to start with.”

                “Something told me that you were going say that.” They smiled at each other. A comfortable silence fell between them, neither of them moving. It reminded him of their weekly meetings at the Pen & Ink. On the few occasions that they didn’t talk about Assassins or Templars, they just enjoyed each other’s company.

                “Are you two going to stand there all day?”

                The pair jumped at Shaun’s voice. Desmond wondered exactly how long Shaun had been standing there. And how long he and Lucy had been standing and staring at each other.

_‘Novice.’_

                _Are you sure your name is Altaïr and not Malik?_

                There was no reply and Desmond decided that would be the way to shut up the phantom voice.

                “So I take it we’re ready to go?” Desmond asked, lazily making his way back towards the Animus.

                “Almost. Rebecca needs to make some adjustments to our Animus to accommodate the new memory core, apparently.” Shaun explained. A quiet sigh of relief left Desmond at the knowledge that he wouldn’t have to have a giant needle shoved into his arm right away.

* * *

 

                Lucy had no idea what she was looking at. Shaun had discovered a number of strange markings throughout Renaissance Italy. Markings that she was sure that would never be seen in real-world Italy. So she and Rebecca were shifting through the Animus data, trying to find more of these markings.

                “And you’re sure you’ve never seen anything like this?” Shaun asked again.

                “Positive. I’ve never seen anything like this.” Lucy sighed in frustration as she wrote down a location of another marking.

                “And I can’t access anything on my end!” Rebecca huffed, “We’re going to need Des’s help with this.”

                Lucy nodded. Another marking, another location to add to the list. “Can we do anything to help him find these things?”

                Rebecca let out a laugh, “What do you think I’ve been doing for the past hour? Let him know that the general location with an eye icon in the database and I’m makin’ them glow.”

                Shaun wasted no time informing Desmond of their strange discovery. After that, it was a waiting game. They all watched his progress through Ezio’s memories; watching as the legendary assassin begin his journey. It only took a good twenty minutes for Desmond to come across one of the markings.

                _“So…what the hell is it?”_ Desmond’s thoughts popped up on one of the monitors.

                “I haven’t the foggiest.” Shaun replied into the mic connected to the Animus.

                _“Well, that’s helpful.”_ Lucy could see the sarcasm in those three words.

                “Oh, be quiet! How about you try and interact with it?” Use Eagle Vision… or something…”

                _“Very eloquently put, Shaun.”_ Came Desmond’s reply. Lucy rolled her eyes, sharing a knowing glance with Rebecca before they returned their attention to the monitors. An image appeared on the screen and the three of them studied it for several long moments.

                “What on Earth is that?” Shaun mumbled, taking off his glasses as if the action would make the image clearer.

                Lucy sighed, rubbing her temples. “I have no idea.” Could nothing be a straight answer for once?

                “Wait, that’s not possible! This can’t be…” Rebecca began.

                Lucy’s brow furrowed in confusion. “What’s not possible, Rebecca?”

                “…Hold on, that’s computer code! Let me compile it!”

                The other two stared at the screen wide-eyed. “How the hell did that get in there?” Lucy asked to no one in particular.

                “Aww…shit, it’s an encrypted file!” Rebecca cried, throwing her hands up in expiration and nearly hit Shaun’s face.

                “Upload it to my computer. I’m a master at decryption.” Shaun instructed, moving to his laptop. Rebecca nodded and began the process. Or at least tried to.

                “I can’t! It’s only compatible with the Animus itself!” she groaned in frustration.

                “Are you sure?” Lucy asked.

                “Positive.”

                Shaun gape at her for a few long moments. “Up-upload it to Desmond then…I can’t believe this.”

                “Don’t worry, Shaun. Desmond will be able to figure it out. I’m sure.” Lucy murmured. But she was worried for him, though. None of them knew what these markings were, where or who they came from, or why they were placed into the Animus, but she dreaded on the possibilities. She tried not to think about them. They all waited with bated breath. Shaun and Rebecca watching the monitors; Lucy standing next to Desmond, ready to pull him out in case things went south. Her hands began to tremble and she took a deep breath to try and steady herself. Lucy hoped that nothing happened. That she wouldn’t have to forcibly remove him from the Animus. The amount of trauma that would place on him mentally…And then she heard a voice that she thought she would never hear again.

                “H-h-hello. This is-…”

                “Clay…?” The name left her as a whisper.

                “…They call me Subject Sixteen. Listen, I don’t have much time. There’s something I have to show you. We’ve been lied to this whole time. Everything we know, everything we’ve been brought up to believe. It’s wrong. Okay. U-um-umm… I’ve uploaded the evidence, the file, that proves it all! But I’ve split it into twenty pieces and locked it with a code. Heh heh… Can’t be too careful! Queen Isabella… no… not her… what century is it?! Umm… nevermind. I’ve hidden the code to the first file inside this program. Find it- - find them all - - and along the way you’ll begin to see the truth.”

                There was long moment of stunned silence. No one expected Clay Kaczmarek to leave a message to the next Animus subject.

                “W- wha-! What the he-! How did this get inside our Animus?” Shaun stammered out.

                No one said anything. Lucy looked over to Shaun and Rebecca. Rebecca shook her head and kept opening her mouth as if to say something, but lost the words. Lucy tried to figure out how Clay’s message ended up in the Animus 2.0. Everything was original. Well everything save for the memory core. Her mind came to a halt. The memory core. Oh, how could she be so stupid?

                “The memory core. The memory core, we transferred Clay’s memory data from Abstergo into the Animus 2.0. He must have hacked the machine when Vidic left him alone between sessions!”

                “And then when we uploaded it into our Animus,” Shaun began.

                “We got sixteen’s messages and hacks.” Rebecca finished, “No wonder Bill sent him in.”

                Lucy sighed, “No wonder the Templars wanted to keep Desmond at Abstergo.” _Who knows what Clay discovered._ Slowly, she went back to her desk. Maybe Desmond was right. Maybe she should take it easy the next couple of days. Maybe a few days away from the Animus might help her mental health. But what would happen when she returned? Lucy couldn’t will herself to go back over to the Animus station and, thankfully, Shaun and Rebecca let her be. She had hoped she had recovered a little from the trauma of Clay’s death, but she was wrong. So Lucy did the only thing she could think of; bury herself in her work.


	9. Suddenly More Complicated

There were many things that Desmond had prepared for in case anything had happened during his time undercover. Sudden loss of contact with any of his fellow assassins, being caught by Templars, having to run from Templars… the list could go on. The one thing that he would have never expected was Clay sitting at the far end of the bar. And Desmond, for a short moment, thought he was imagining the troubled look on the fellow assassin’s face. He wasn’t sure that Clay had seen him come in; he just stared passively at the countertop. Desmond carefully approached him, not letting his concern and confusion on his face.

                “It’s bit of an unusual hour for anyone to come in, especially on a weekday.” He said.

                “Only if your patrons have a day job.” Clay responded, glancing up at him.

                “And are you looking for one?” Desmond hoped that wasn’t too direct. Clay was an expert in being subtle and drawing out information from his target without them knowing. Desmond… not so much.

                “No. No… But I think you’ll be hearing about me in the near future.”

                They made eye contact. Desmond’s eyes questioning, Clay’s eyes filled with resolve. “Care to explain, or are going to let me think you have a large ego?”

                Clay let out a half-hearted laugh. “I’m, uh…, getting a promotion at Abstergo.”

                Any sign of laughter was gone. “You’re headed to-“ Desmond glanced around, Eagle Vision not showing any signs of enemies. “You’re being sent to the genetic memory division?” he whispered.

                “Yeah. I got a feeling that you’ll be helping me when the time comes.” Clay said. “So I figured that you deserved a head’s up before that.”

                The bartender nodded. “Thanks for that.” He sighed, “So you want a beer or something before you go?”

                Clay shook his head and gave a wistful smile. “As much as I would love to, I’ve been here too long.”

                “Right…” Desmond said with a nod. “Well, again, thanks for the head’s up. Good luck, Clay.”

                “You too.” And with that, Clay left.

                And Desmond knew that his job had suddenly become a lot more complicated.

* * *

 

                Lucy was running out of things to do. She had sort through all the Templar data she had sent, filed reports, and even gone through inventory several times. Of course, going through inventory used up less of her time thanks to Shaun’s organization skills. She sighed quietly as she folded her quilt.

                _“Find it - - find them all - - and along the way you’ll begin to see the truth.”_

                Those words seemed to echo in her head without end. The file that Desmond (with plenty of Shaun’s help) had been a very brief video clip of two people running. Running from what? From who? They had no idea. But the lack of clothes was noticeable. Maybe with a little time, Desmond would be able to track down and decode the nineteen other pieces. And then hopefully things would become clearer. Another sigh left her. She was out of things to do.

                _I guess I should see how Desmond’s doing._

                Slowly Lucy made her way back to the main room. Rebecca gave her a friendly smile before she turned her attention to the progress monitor. Shaun was busy updating his tack board. Lucy made a mental note to see what had changed while she was out of the room.

                “How’s everything going?”

                Rebecca gave her another smile. “Not too shabby. I’m getting ready to pull him out soon. Ezio’s about to make his first long term trip to Venice and I thought that be good place to stop for the day.”

                “And it’ll give Desmond a chance to help around the place.” Shaun piped in. “I need him to set up the evening’s security grid. Don’t want anyone popping in without us knowing it.”

                Lucy nodded, gently biting on her lower lip. A part of her wanted to offer to set the security grid, but Desmond would need some sort of task to do to keep his mind in _his_ present day. So she waited. She through her emails once more in a feeble attempt to pass the time. But her gaze kept going back to Desmond’s still form. She watched the steady, rhythmic rise and fall of his chest, the occasional twitch of his hand and rapid eye movement. In a way, it was easy to forget that he was reliving an ancestor’s memory and not sleeping. At least he seemed more comfortable in the chair. While not Lucy herself hadn’t accessed any of her ancestor’s memories, the one time she had laid on Abstergo’s Animus it wasn’t comfortable.  Rebecca’s sudden movements caught Lucy’s attention and she realized that Desmond was finally being pulled out of the Animus. She watched as he rubbed his eyes, a soft groan leaving him as he slowly sat up.

                She got up from her chair, looking for any signs of the Bleeding Effect. So far his posture was the same, no swearing in languages he didn’t know before. It helped put her a little at ease. But who knew what wasn’t showing.

                “Desmond, let’s go set the security grid for tonight.” Lucy said as soon as Desmond regained most of his bearings. “It’ll give you a chance to stretch out a bit, do something other than lie in a chair.”  
                He nodded, “Yeah. Sounds good.”

* * *

 

                “Uh…what was that?” Desmond asked as he and Lucy walked down to the warehouse. Something seemed to move just out of the corner of his eye. But when he turned his head to get a better glimpse at it, whatever it was, it was gone. Only what appeared like a ghost trail was left behind.

                “What was what?” Lucy replied. He could hear the worry in her voice. It was subtle, but it was still there.

                “I, uh… I thought I saw something but it may just be my imagination.” _Or the Bleeding Effect_ , he thought. It would be very bad if it _was_ the Bleeding Effect. Less time in the Animus, no doubt. But less time in the Animus meant more days in it. Days that they probably couldn’t afford. Maybe the four of them shouldn’t have gotten so smashed last night.

                _’A little late for the thought.’_ Altaïr commented snidely. _‘Hopefully you have learned something from your foolishness.’_

                _Just be quiet, please._ Desmond had been so lost in thought, he nearly walked right into Lucy.

                “How long have you been seeing things?” she asked.

                “Uh…” he tried to date it. “Kind of recently. I think.”

                Her eyes widen and her already pale complexion became paler. “What… what exactly do you see?”

                That was actually a really good question. Desmond was never really sure what exactly he saw. He never saw whatever any of these ghost images long enough to see exactly what they were. Sometimes he could have sworn it was military men from time and place or people on horseback. Other times it seemed like just human-shaped figures running or walking. So Desmond told her exactly that. And the news seemed to shaken her.

                “Do they last longer than thirty seconds?!” she asked so quickly that he almost missed it. But her reactions and question confirmed something that he was afraid of. That the Bleeding Effect was starting to emerge. That this was only the start. And that scared him more than the Templars finding them and storming the hideout, killing them or using them for darker means.

                “No, Lucy. Just for a few moments, that’s all.” He answered. “It’s more like something you believed you saw and when you turn to look at it, it’s like it wasn’t even there to begin with. Like a ghost or something. They really don’t last all that long.”

                “They aren’t last longer then--?”

                “No, Lucy. Everything is fine.” _Expect for hearing my ancestor’s voice in my head._ Desmond shifted his weight from foot to foot as Lucy studied for a long moment. For a second, he debated if he should even say anything about Altaïr’s voice. He could already tell that Lucy felt guilty for him winding up in Abstergo and this whole situation, and no doubt that she was already shouldering large amount of burden.

                _‘If you do not tell her now, when shall you ever tell her?’_ came Altaïr’s voice.  As much as Desmond believed that he should be ignoring this voice, he had a good point.

                Desmond shuffled again, this time in nervousness and not awkwardness. “Lucy, there is one thing that is new.” He began. Oh, she was probably going to freak out over this.

                “Wh-what do you mean?”

                “Um… earlier in the week, I, uh… I kind of… I kind of started hearing Altaïr’s voice.” He swallowed as Lucy’s eyes seemed to get even wider. “In my head.” He added lamely.

                “WHAT?!” Yup. Wasn’t going to take this very well at all. Desmond was sure that Rebecca and Shaun could hear her.

                “Well, it’s not like I’m hearing him – it – constantly.” Desmond explained. “Just every now and then. Saying things you’d expect Altaïr to say.”

                Lucy continued to stare at him wide-eyed, her mouth slight agape. And just when he was going to ask if she alright, she finally said something. “How long has _this_ been going on?”

                “Four, five days.” No point in lying. Surely the more information Lucy had, the better she could help him. If she could help him. Desmond doubted there was anyone else more well-versed on the Bleeding Effect than her unfortunately.

                “Have you been… having conversations with it?” Lucy asked quietly.

                “I’ve been trying not to. But sometimes it’s a little difficult not to.” Desmond sighed. “I figured if I did my best to ignore it, it might help. Every once in a while though, it’ll offer up some really good advice that’s just hard to ignore.”

                Lucy nodded, taking everything in. She looked fearful, worried, panicked. And Desmond felt incredibly guilty for being the cause of it all. He knew if he said it wasn’t her fault, she may blame herself even more. They stood there in the hall, neither of them sure what to say. So Desmond did the one thing that he could think of. He placed a hand on her shoulder, gently rubbing it in hopes that it would offer her some comfort like it seemed to during their times at the Pen & Ink. The action caused her to look up at him.

                “Everything okay in there?” he asked softly. He watched as she turned her gaze away and heard her sigh.

                “Is there anything else I need to know?” she replied, “Anything at all?”

                “I don’t know. But there is one thing I do know.” Lucy turned her gaze back to him, her brow furrowed in question. “That the security grid isn’t going to set itself up. And that Shaun is probably going to make some sort of passive aggressive comment on how I don’t do any work around here.”

                The comment got him the desired effect. She started laughing. Sure, it was on the quiet side and little more reserved. But it was good to see her smile and laugh. They walked down to the warehouse and as they began setting the defenses, Lucy began to tell him that he was exhibiting the less dangerous symptoms of the Bleeding Effect.

                “And what are the more dangerous symptoms of the Bleeding Effect?” Desmond dared to ask.

                “Degradation of cogitation, temporal hallucinations, multiple-awareness issues, over-lapping realities… If we’re not careful, you may not need the Animus to visit your ancestors.” Lucy added.

                Desmond gave a humorless chuckle, “Which wouldn’t be a bad thing, assuming you could control it.”

                “Which no one has been able to.” Lucy said. “And I doubt that anyone ever will.”

                He didn’t have anything to say to that. He simply put in the last code and went down to rejoin with Lucy. “Don’t worry so much, Lucy. I’m sure that if we did this a thousand times over, there would be nothing we could do differently. So don’t blame yourself for what happened.”

                She looked up at him, her eyes glassy.  “You can’t know that.”

                “I can pretend. But I know for sure that if you keep blaming yourself, you may not be able to find a way to move on. And you of all people deserve to move on.” He watched as Lucy blushed. It started just as the barest hint of pink on the apples of her cheeks and then spread all the way to her ears. And that was when he realized that his hands were gently cupping her cheeks. Desmond felt his own face grow hot at the realization. He didn’t remember doing the action, didn’t even remember considering the action.  Desmond hoped that he wasn’t making her uncomfortable and quickly averted his gaze. He was about to apologize and pull his hands away when he felt one of Lucy’s hands rest on his wrist.

                “Th-thank you.” she murmured. “Desmond … I’m glad you’re here.”

                All he could do was nod and watch as Lucy gently pulled away and wished him good-night. For several long minutes he stood there like an idiot. And for those several long minutes, he could hear Altaïr chuckling and new, quieter voice laughing in his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, still looking for an editor/beta reader.   
> Thank you for the kudos and I hope to see your comments.


	10. Dreams and Memories

Desmond was not a fan of crowds. Well, to be honest, he wasn’t a fan of the night club scene. He disliked the heat generated from so many people crammed into one place, and he wasn’t a big fan of the music played in places like these. He probably would never set a foot in one if it weren’t for the fact that it made a great place to meet up with Lucy. At least Bad Weather had plenty of dark spots and reasonably clean bathrooms. Plus their security kept on top of things.

                He glanced towards the entrance. Still no sign of Lucy. He was starting to get worried. She had never been this late before. Was she being held up at Abstergo? Had she been caught extracting data? Or had something else happened? Desmond glanced down at his watch. Ten more minutes. He would give her ten more minutes and if he didn’t see her, he’d go look for her. He glanced around the club again, his eagle vision revealing nothing. The occasional person came up to him, asking for a drink or a dance. “Sorry. Waiting for somebody.” He would reply over the noise. It seemed like every two minutes was ten and Desmond felt like he had checked his watch over a dozen times.

                In all honesty, he was about to say ‘fuck-it’ and start searching for Lucy when he finally saw a familiar face. Even with the long, auburn wig on and the slightly heavier make-up, Desmond could tell it was her. He worried if the Templars would be able to see through her disguise. He saw through it so easily. Was it because he knew what he was looking for underneath all the fake hair and makeup? Or was it that he had seen her so many times in her disguise? She began to move towards the bar. Another quick glance in eagle vision revealed no one had followed her, and Desmond began to make his way to her. It was a bit tricky to reach her through the crowds. Luckily she was moving at a slower pace, glancing over her shoulder every now and then. Desmond hoped that he wasn’t startling or scaring her. Eventually he caught up with her, grabbing hold of her hand. The action caused her to jump and turn around, ready to strike in case. He gave her hand a gentle squeeze and smile. Lucy visibly relaxed and stepped closer to him.

                “I’ve got a quieter spot. You said we needed to talk?” he asked over the music.

                She nodded, “After you!”

                Desmond gave a small chuckle, wrapping an arm around her waist and leading her over to his quieter spot. They worked their way back through the crowds until they reached the private booths. They took the booth closest to the fire exit. The music definitely not as deafening as it was on the main floor. But it would still be very hard for someone to overhear them.

                “Okay, so we’re here now. You said… you had something to tell me.” Desmond said.

                Lucy sighed. “It’s about Clay.”

                He froze. “How bad is it getting?”

                She looked away, her brow furrowing. “They’re keeping him in days at a time. Vidic’s trying to find something. He’s been flagging a couple of Clay’s sessions. Different ancestors from different times. It’s taking a toll on him. It’s starting to show. I… I don’t think he can hold out much longer.”

                Desmond took a deep breath. Shit. This was bad. “God damnit.” He muttered. His mind was going a million miles a minute. If Clay was getting as bad as Lucy said he was, they would have to pull out early. And doing so would put everyone at risk. And while clay was very capable member of the Assassin Order, who knew exactly what damage was done to his mind. Then there was the risk that Clay could become another Daniel Cross. There was so many risks and unknowns in this sudden news.

                “Nathan.” Lucy’s worried voice brought him out of his musings. “Nathan… is there anything we can do? Anything at all?”

                He took a deep breath. “We risk everything trying to do anything.”

                “I know, but Nathan-!”

                “I know! I know! If we wait too long, Clay will get worse. But if we try to do anything, it’s not just Clay who’s put in immediate danger, but you as well. And I don’t know if we’ll even be able to get somewhere remotely safe!”

                Lucy paled at his words. “Jesus…” He shoulders slumped. “What the hell are we going to do?”

                They were silent for several long minutes. Neither of them could deny that they were treading on thin ice. He could tell that she felt defeated. Hell, he had a sense of defeat.

                “Give me a week. I’ll try to come up with something in a week.” Desmond stated. “I’ll try and keep it from being a suicide mission.”

* * *

 

                Desmond was still trying to figure out why he had overstepped the boundaries he and Lucy had set so long ago. Or at least, stick with his usual way of trying to comfort her. A hand on her shoulder, or a one armed embrace. At least telling her not to shoulder all the blame and the guilt was normal. A sigh left him as he slowly made his way up the stairs.

                _“You can’t get too attached to your partners, Desmond.”_

                A slight shiver went up his spine as he remembered those words. For the briefest moment, he paused. The words seemed to hang over him. Had he… had he become _that_ attached to Lucy? Her friendship was something that he valued. That was only natural after five years of working together, of being her support, that they were strong friends. Only natural that he would want to look out for her wellbeing. Only natural that he silently refused to leave her behind at Abstergo. That was why he had employed such a dangerous escape. What kind of friend would he be if he left behind?

                _‘Are you still certain that it is friendship that you feel towards her?’_ Altaïr asked quietly.

                Desmond’s brow furrowed at the question. _Ignore him, Des. Don’t add fuel to the flames._

                A faint voice in the back of his mind chuckled as Altaïr sighed. _‘Ignore me all you wish, but know that your current situation has never been uncommon.’_

                Desmond’s frown deepened at those words. He wondered if Altaïr was referring to himself. Afterall, he had technically fallen for Maria Thorpe on assignment. Another sigh left Desmond as he reached the top of the stairs. Could he…?

                _Don’t think about it, Desmond. Now is not the time._

                He looked up. And he could have sworn saw something. Many somethings walking and running down the hall. Desmond froze, waiting for the ghost people to vanish. He watched as they quickly disappeared. He swallowed down the fear that started to bubble up inside of him. That was the first time he had actually seen the ghost images. He tried not to think about what he had seen. He turned down the hall, heading straight for his room. His pace quickened.

                _I just need to unwind. Relax a little._

                And then he saw it. Just outside the door to his room. A woman. A woman who greatly resembled Maria Thorpe. Desmond stared at this ghost for what felt like hours. And then his head suddenly felt like it was trying to split in two. He gnashed his teeth. The last thing he needed was to cause panic in the hideout. His vision blurred and the last thing he saw was the ghost Maria running off. Desmond stumbled, grasping for the door. And then he saw black.

* * *

 

                _Slowly, Desmond regained his senses. Or at least some of them. The sensation was familiar. The sensation of being all there and yet a distant observer. Slowly his vision returned. He looked around. Large stone buildings, a nearly full moon, and more stars than he had ever seen. There was something familiar about this place…_

What the hell? What is this…? Where am I? _He looked around again. It hit him._ It’s Acre! _How did he not recognize it in the first place? Altaïr had done numerous missions in this city. Many Desmond had witnessed, thanks to the Animus. Soft footsteps alerted him to another’s presence. Immediately, Desmond was on the defensive. Quickly he spun around to see the person who had snuck up on him, to be greeted by the sight of Altaïr. This…this shouldn’t be possible! Desmond watched as Altaïr steadily approached the entrance of Acre’s fort._

How the hell…? I’m not even in the Animus! _Briefly, the ghost image of Maria flashed in his memory. He hoped that this was just some sort of weird dream. The past few days, he hadn’t been able to get much sleep. But still, this was very strange. He wondered if this was a byproduct of the Animus. Whenever he was in the Animus, he always saw his ancestors’ memories through their eyes. Never had he been able to actually watch them. Suddenly the world around him, them, entered Eagle Vision. Desmond looked back towards Altaïr, following the older man’s gaze. He saw his ancestor’s target. Or he assumed that the person now running away was Altaïr target. His ancestor wasted no time._

_Desmond jumped at the speed at which Altaïr set off at. Easily, the man kept up with his target. And Desmond felt the pull to follow him. It felt like this was important. Like he had to see what was happening. The whole chase felt off, like Altaïr was letting his target stay ahead of him. Desmond watched as Altaïr target reached the tower door, slamming and locking it shut. There was muttering of what was most likely curses, followed by Altaïr climbing up. Desmond watched him. He couldn’t help but be impressed by his ancestor’s climbing abilities. Sure he had experienced them, but it was something else to see, to watch, one’s own ancestor scale such a large structure without batting an eye and with no hesitation. He followed. He followed with unnatural speed and agility. He had hoped the ledge just in time to see Altaïr’s target to reveal them as Maria. He watched as Altaïr stride over to her, and kiss her like it would be the last time he would see her…_

_Desmond didn’t need to keep watching to know where this was going._

Okay… Wasn’t expecting that. _He thought as he turned around. He wasn’t expecting to be a… witness… to his own bloodline continuing. But the lack of noise caught his attention. He looked up towards the sky to see the moon moving faster than it should have. Maybe… it was showing the passage of time? Desmond heard the rustle of hay and he dared a glance. He watched as Altaïr cupped and stroked Maria’s cheek, pressing his forehead to hers. Desmond felt uncomfortable, felt like he was intruding what was painfully obvious an intimate moment between two of his ancestors. This was a memory he had hoped he would never stumble upon. Even though the couple had long since been dead, Desmond felt that what hadn’t found its’ way into legend should stay hidden. He watched as Altaïr pulled his hood back on and performed a leap of faith._

_But this time there was no pull to follow Altaïr. Desmond looked over to Maria Thorpe. He couldn’t help but wonder what she was thinking, what she was feeling. It must have been hard to be the wife to one of the most revered assassins in history. And with in the blink of an eye, Desmond was no longer standing atop the tower in Acre. Darkness completely surrounded him. He looked around. At first, it seemed like there was no light. But then he saw it. A light in the dark; just within his reach and yet, just outside it._

_“Lucy…?”_

_“Desmond…”_

* * *

 

_Lucy was at the Pen & Ink, in her usual seat at the counter. She looked around and found that the bar was empty. Save for Desmond. It all seemed so familiar. Like this had happened before. He was standing half between her and the end of the bar counter. She watched as he carefully prepared a cocktail of some sort. A few pieces of ice, a splash of this, a splash of that… It was very relaxing to watch him work. But… she wished that he would glance her way. Nothing much.  Just something to acknowledge her presence. She turned her gaze away from him and onto her lap. Her hands slowly curled around one another. A soft ‘clink’ drew her attention. A glass with a deep red liquid and a cherry. She looked just beyond the glass to see Desmond’s hand resting on the edge of the counter. Her eyes shot up to see his face, only to see him walk off to the end of the bar. She tried to call out to him, but her words were caught in her throat. Lucy stood up from her seat, the speed of her action caused the bar stool to fall to the ground. There was no sound. It felt like she was running through quick sand. His pace was even as he walked towards the end of the bar. She felt like she would never catch up with him._

_“D-Desmond!”_

_Slowly he turned around. His eyes focused on her. He stared at her with the same eyes as earlier. Staring at her with such an intensity… She found herself blushing. It was like there were words hanging above them, waiting to be said. But she didn’t know the words._

_“Lucy…”_

* * *

 

                Lucy jolted awake, her eyes snapping open. Slowly she propped and sat herself up. She was still wrapped up in her bedcovers and quilt. The images from her dream still drifting through her mind. Most of them had already faded, as it happens with all dreams. But what little she remembered set her heart racing and her face aflame. Intense golden brown eyes, the feeling of needing to say something. It was almost… It was almost like that dream she had last week. Funny how she forgot it until now.

                She thought back to last night. How close Desmond had gotten, telling her not to blame herself for Clay’s death and that it was alright for her to move on. It reminded her of that night so many months ago when had done the same.  That night, Desmond had simply embraced her… She shook her head. _Worry about it later._ She told herself, _We have to focus on today._

                Lucy sighed as she got out of bed and changed out of her sleeping clothes. She had to be more honest with herself. Right now, she had to keep an eye on Desmond. Hearing Atlaïr’s voice, seeing fleeting images from his ancestors’ past; it was only a matter of time until the Bleeding Effect started to be too much for him to handle. Her mind drifted to images of Clay in his final days. How lost and confused he had become; how he when he was aware of himself, he looked to her in desperation and fear. If she had acted faster…

                _Stop it. There are too many things to worry about right now._

                “Time for another day.” She whispered to herself. She made her way to the main room. Hopefully Shaun had grabbed items that Rebecca had bought last time. Okay, so they weren’t that bad, but Lucy believed that animals were tasty for a reason. The smell of coffee greeted her first, followed by Shaun and Rebecca. Lucy was a little shocked to see Desmond sitting at the small card table. She thought that he would have slept in a little bit this morning. A light frown formed on her face as she took in his appearance.  He stared at his coffee mug, his eyes seemed distant. He looked pale and troubled, like he hadn’t had any sleep. Slowly, she approached him. Desmond didn’t seem to notice her, or if he did, he didn’t acknowledge her approach. Lucy stopped just a few steps away from him. Lucy wondered briefly if she should just let him be, but she had that with Clay…

                “Hey.” Lame, but simple. Desmond glanced up at her and gave her a small smile.

                “Hey. Sleep well?”

                “It looks like I should be asking you that.” Lucy scoffed playfully. They smiled at one another for a moment, but the playful atmosphere disappeared quickly. “Desmond…?”

                He looked like he was debating with himself. And it only made Lucy worry more. She was almost ready to drag him out of the room and make him talk when he spoke. “Nothing. Nothing to be too worried about.”

                “Are-…are you sure?” she didn’t believe him.

                He was silent for what seemed like a very long time. “Yeah. I’ll…I’ll tell you about it tonight, okay?”

                Lucy bit on her lower lip. “Okay.” She still felt like that he was trying to play down whatever it was that was bothering him. “Just know if you don’t say anything, I’ll force it out of you.”

                The comment earned her an earnest laugh. “I know you will, Lucy. I know you will.”


	11. Open Up

It was misting outside and Desmond was almost out of time. Rebecca was having a difficult time hacking into Abstergo’s systems, making it hard to figure out the security schedules. Even finding the blue prints was turning out to be a complicated task. He had to come up with something, anything for when Lucy came tomorrow night. A ragged sigh left him when slammed the lid back on the garbage can. If he was honest, there was no plan to help Clay escape. Desmond couldn’t come up with anything. Or at least, couldn’t come up with a plan that wasn’t a complete suicide mission. And he was certain that Clay was worse than he was a week ago.

                “N-Nathan?”

                Desmond’s head shot up to see Lucy standing just at the edge of the back alley light’s reach. “Lucy!” His mind went into panic mode. She was shivering and when she stepped more into the light, it was evident that she had been crying. He ran up to her, worry running rampant through him.

                “Lucy! What happened?”

                “N-Nathan-“she gave a violent shudder and turned her gaze to the ground.

                “Are you hurt?”

                Her gaze shot back up to him. “N-no! Nathan-!”

                “Did they find out?”

                “He’s dead.” Lucy choked out.

                Desmond froze. “What?”

                “Clay. He… he killed himself… Oh god, Nathan! There was so much blood…!” She said in a broken sob. Desmond could only stare at her wide eye. His arms moved automatically, wrapping themselves around her. Of all the things Desmond was expecting on this mission, this was not one of them. His heart broke at the sound of Lucy’s quiet sobs. Her hands gripped his vest, her forehead rested on his chest, and all he could was hold her a little closer and try to comfort her.

* * *

 

                The day just seemed to drag on. And it was driving Lucy mad. She wanted to know what was bothering Desmond. Wanted to know if he was having more serious symptoms of the Bleeding Effect that he hadn’t told her about. Or was it something else that was bothering him? She looked back over to the Animus. Once again, Desmond was lying in the machine and Lucy just wanted to pull him out of it and never put him in it again. That was something she was sure Desmond wanted as well. Maybe he needed a vacation just as much as she did. Lucy looked at her computer screen, half tempted to email William to request time off for them. For all of them, really. She was certain Shaun and Rebecca had earned more than their fair share of vacation time as well. If the Assassin Order had such a thing as vacation time.

                “Lucy?”

                She jumped, not noticing that Shaun had come up to her desk.

                “Y-yes, Shaun? You need something?” Lucy asked.

                “I’m going to take a quick stroll around the block. Want to join me?” he asked. Lucy glanced over at Desmond. “We won’t be long. I’m sure Rebecca can handle things on her own for a little while.”

                She gently bit on her lower lip, her reluctance to leave very apparent.

                “Oh-! Just take the damn walk!” Rebecca laughed. “You need the breather!”

                Slowly, Lucy got up from her desk and followed Shaun outside, grabbing her brown leather jacket as she did. She looked around nervously as Shaun locked the warehouse door. They didn’t say much as they started their walk, only commented on the chill in the air and the gradual arrival of fall. They stayed in a slightly awkward silence surrounded by the sound of passing cars and far-off sirens.

                “What’s been bother you, Lucy?” Shaun suddenly asked. He was quiet and she almost didn’t hear him. “You’ve been very quiet and last night, you were all flustered over something or another.”

                She blushed. She hadn’t realized that her moods had been that easy to read.

                “You know that you’re not undercover anymore, right?” he pointed out, chuckling a little.

                “Sorry. Just a lot on my mind. I can’t help but worry if we’re going to be found or not. Worried if Desmond’s really okay, that the Bleeding Effect is more advanced than he’s letting on… And then this morning, Desmond was so unlike himself!” she huffed.

                Shaun sighed, “Well, that’s all true. But you still haven’t told me why you were all flustered last night.”

                “What?”

                “Last night. After you and Desmond set up the security gird. You spent a full two minutes in front of the coffee pot  before turning all red and running off somewhere.” He explained.

                “Oh. That.” Lucy hadn’t realized that anyone had been in the kitchen last night. That was embarrassing to say the least considering her training. She wondered how much she should tell Shaun. The memory of Desmond’s hands gently cupping her face, how close he had been… She felt herself grow warm. “It’s… it’s nothing big.” She muttered.

                “Well, it’s obviously something.” Shaun said with a frown. “Desmond didn’t try anything, did he?”

                “What?! No! Nothing happened!” Lucy cried, shocked that Shaun would suggest that Desmond would do something, anything, improper. “Nothing like _that_ happened…” she added quietly.

                Lucy stayed quiet for a long while, debating what exactly she should tell him. But the look Shaun gave her reminded her that what Desmond had told her not so long ago. She wasn’t alone anymore. There were other people who cared for her and would look out for her, help her with her problems. Slowly she told Shaun what happened the night prior, doing her best to fully explain the symptoms Desmond had told her about. She couldn’t stop her blush though as she recounted what Desmond had said and done last night.

                “…and then he pulled away, like I had burned him or something. And that’s when I thanked him and told him…And I told him I was happy he was here.” Lucy said with a small sigh. “And that’s it.”

                “I see.” Shaun remained quiet for a long while, unintentionally creating an awkward silence. By now, they had circled the block close to three times now. She followed him as he made the turn to return to the hideout. “Maybe watching Ezio sparked something?”

                Lucy gave him a confused and worried look. “Like more of the Bleeding Effect?”

                He let out a loud groan and with turned sharply to look Lucy straight in the eye. “Damn it! Not everything that happens to Desmond or-or-or everything that he does is influenced by the Bleeding Effect, Lucy! I know you’re worried he’ll end up like Clay. We’re all worried about him. But just keep in mind that Desmond’s still Desmond.”

                She turned away from his harsh gaze. “I’m sorry. I just—I’ve seen all the degrees of the Bleeding Effect. I’ve seen what it does to people, and what happens when they try to hide it.” Lucy took in a shuddery breath, trying to steady herself. “Desmond’s been there for me for so long, helping me, supporting me…I just, I just want to be there for him… like he had been for me.”

                She felt tears starting to form and she took in another breath, stomping her foot. The last thing she wanted to do was break down in tears. Even if the idea was very appealing at the moment.  Shaun patted her shoulder. It helped, it was a little comforting by not as comforting as when Desmond did it.

                “Well, if you ever need to talk again, let me know.” Shaun told her softly before unlocking and opening the door. She nodded, following him inside and feeling a little more at ease.

* * *

 

                Desmond let out a groan as Rebecca removed him from the Animus. Ezio’s fight with Rodrigo Borgia had been an intense one. Desmond could swear that he could feel the blows that his Renaissance ancestor had taken during that fight. Running his hands over his face, he concentrated on the sounds around him. The hum of the computers in the room, the distant sound of traffic, and Rebecca chatting away and Shaun making the occasional witty comments. It all helped him stay in his own timeline. He looked up from his hands. It was practically dark outside and Lucy was nowhere in sight. He had promised her to tell her what was bothering him. It made him nervous. Nervous to tell her that he experienced one of Altaïr’s memories without the aid of the Animus. The exhaustion that was beginning to seep into him wasn’t helping either.

                In fact, Altaïr had been pretty silent for most of the day. Not that this was a bad thing, but Desmond had kind of grown use to hearing that voice in his head. He wondered if Altaïr was waiting for him to acknowledge what he had said last night. Or to understand what he meant. But there was a chance that Altaïr didn’t want to talk about the unintentional memory visit.

                “Where’s Lucy?” Desmond asked.

                “I think she’s chilling in her room.” Rebecca answered. “Try and pull her out for dinner, okay?”

                He nodded and made his way to Lucy’s room, still wondering if he should tell her everything that happened after he passed out/fell asleep. Desmond didn’t remember much after he ended up with Maria Thorp on the rooftop, only that it was dark save for another person. Maybe it would be better to leave that last bit out.

                _‘You know who that other person was.’_ came a teasing voice. One that sounded like…

                _Oh, not you too!_

_‘You were expecting the Great Mentor?’_

Desmond could feel a frown forming. _I do_ not _need this right now._

                Ezio scoffed. _‘Really? Because I believe you could use help. A lot of help.’_

                _You can help me by shutting up and staying quiet._

                He heard Ezio chuckle and everything was quiet again. And he was in front of Lucy’s door. For a long moment, Desmond stood in front of it, debating if he should bother her. _Get this done and things sort of back to normal._ Gently he knocked on the door, hoping he wasn’t disturbing her.

                “Lucy?”

                “It’s open.” Her voice muffled slightly.

                Desmond pushed the door open, shooting her a smile when she looked up. “Hey.”

                She smiled back. “Hey. How’d it go?”

                “Pretty good. You know that first fight Ezio has with Rodrigo?” He asked as he sat down next to her. She nodded. “A lot tougher than they make it out to be. I’m telling ya, if I didn’t know any better, I would say I’m black and blue.”

                Lucy gave a humorless chuckle. “Did you find out anything else?”

                “That the Borgia’s were looking for a P.O.E., and that Rodrigo thought he was some kind of prophet.” Desmond sighed. “And then the Assassin’s believed that Ezio’s actually the prophet. Rebecca made sure to record it all. I’m sure you can check it out later.”

                She sighed and nodded. “It seems like every time we visit one of your ancestors, we discover history is a lot crazier and weirder than we ever thought it could be.”

                “Funny, considering we’ve only visited two of them.” They both laughed. Desmond could hear Ezio give a huff and mutter something. “So…”  
                “So.”

                “I promised you I tell you what was bothering me this morning.” He watched as Lucy sat up a little straighter. _Now or never._ “Last night, I uh…, I visited one of Altaïr’s memories. Without the Animus.”

                He knew that Lucy had gone pale. He didn’t need to look at her to know that. Desmond heard her sharp intake of breath, wincing a little at the sound.

                _‘If this is your way of wooing, it’s a very terrible way.’_

                _I’m not “wooing” anyone. If I’ve learned anything from watching you, keeping it in my pants is in my best interest._

                “It was weird. It was and it wasn’t like accessing a memory through the Animus I was there but I wasn’t in Altaïr’s shoes. It was like I was being shown something.” Desmond continued on, explaining how the memory started. How there was a pull to follow Altaïr and how the memory played out. At the end of it all, Lucy was staring at him wide-eyed, mouth slight agape.

                “You watched your ancestors, um…, conceive-“

                “God! No! I turned away for that!” Desmond groaned, turning red. “Besides, it’s like time sped up for that moment.” He sighed running his hands through his hair. He flopped down on his side, his head close to her lap. “How often is that going to happen, Lucy?”

                She was silent for a long moment before answering. “I don’t know. Normally an event like that is triggered by something. Stress, environmental elements, sometimes even certain phrases or scents. Even a subject’s own emotions can be a trigger. Do you remember anything that might have been a trigger?”

                _‘How about gently holding—‘_

_Be QUIET._

“Altaïr said some things last night, something about how our situation hasn’t been the first time it’s happen.” Desmond murmured.

                “Desmond…” Lucy said softly with slightly reprimanding tone.

                “I know, I know… I shouldn’t be listening to my ancestors or having conversations with them, but that might have been the trigger.” Had he been this tired after a session before? Maybe all the stress from the past week or so was finally catching up to him.

                She sighed. “Do you know what he meant?”

                “I don’t really know. I was kind of hoping you might have an idea.” He was lying, but Desmond wasn’t truly if Altaïr was implying that his feelings towards Lucy were going beyond friendship.

                “Maybe he meant that it’s not the first time an Assassin cell has been trapped in a Templar run city?”

                “Maybe.” Desmond let out a low hum as he felt Lucy’s fingers tentatively run through his hair. Distantly, he heard Altaïr and Ezio scoff.

                “We’ll work on that later. Is there anything else I should know?” she asked.

                “I’ve started hearing Ezio’s voice today.” Why did being tired make him so loose lip? It was worse than alcohol. He felt Lucy freeze. “I’ve been telling him to shut up. He’s not super talkative at the moment, but he’s annoying.”

                “Does he listen to you?” she went back to stroking his hair.

                “For a little while.” Another hum of contentment left him. “That feels nice.”

                Desmond heard her laugh. This felt really familiar. Like déjà vu or something out of a dream. “You’re so tired. Don’t you want to sleep in your own bed?”

                “In a moment.” He yawned. “I’ll go sleep in my own bed in a moment. I wanna know how your day went.”

                Another gentle laugh. “It went slow. Now that you know how my day went, will you go to bed?”

                “Yeah.” He felt himself drifting off. It was hard not to. The bed was warm and comfortable, Lucy’s gentle fingers running through his hair. It had been a long time since Desmond had such a sense of peace.

                _‘I told you, Desmond.’_ Altaïr’s voice echoed quietly in his mind. _‘This is not the first time an assassin’s has found himself compromised by another. What matters now is how you will act upon it.’_


	12. Day Off

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter kicked, screamed, and cried. It didn't want to be written. But hopefully now I'll be able to get to Brotherhood and Revelations faster and better since it's done.  
> Still looking for someone to edit/beta read.  
> Thank you to everyone who has left 'kudos' and commented!  
> I hope to read more of your reviews/comments soon!

Desmond did his best not to let his nerves show. It didn’t help with Rebecca and Shaun staring at him with wide, disbelieving eyes. Everything felt so surreal right now.

                _Don’t focus on it._

                “What do you mean Clay’s dead?” Shaun finally asked.

                “Dead, as in never speaking or breathing again.” Desmond sighed bleakly. “He…. He apparently killed himself during the night. I’ve already told my Dad. So now we’ve got two big concerns to address. The first being is Abstergo and who they’ll be going after for their next test subject. The second, of course, is Lucy’s safety. “

                Silence filled the room for several long minutes. Nobody was sure what to say and Desmond couldn’t blame anyone. No one had expected Clay to go into Abstergo’s Animus project. And no one had even dreamed of Clay failing in anyway.

                “Are you calling it?” Rebecca asked softly, breaking the long silence.

                Desmond took in a deep, steadying breath before nodding. “I’m calling it.”

                “Does Bill-?”

                “Dad doesn’t know. I wasn’t really set on making a decision earlier.  But he’ll find out soon enough. Right now, we’ve gotta find a way to wrap this up. Rebecca, I need you to see if Abstergo already has a ‘subject’ lined up. And keep trying to pull up those security schedules and blue prints. I don’t know if or when we’ll need them, but better to have them and not need them than the other way around.”

                “I’ll look into the condition of nearby safe house and hideout. Most likely, we won’t be able to leave the country right away.” Shaun added.

                “Guys, aren’t we making this a little too complicated?” Rebecca asked. "Desmond, couldn’t you just ‘go home’ with her in a cab or something?”

                Desmond sighed, rubbing his temple. “Too many witnesses. But we can always use it if we can’t get any info on Abstergo’s innards. Either way, I need to talk to Lucy. See if we can get any possible insights that we can use to our advantage. They’ve got to be in some form of scramble after what’s happened. If we’re lucky, we’ll be able to figure out how to extract Lucy and go into hiding before Abstergo has a new test subject.”

* * *

 

                The first thought that floated through Desmond’s mind was that his bed was very comfortable and warm. The following thought was that he didn’t want to leave his bed. Maybe Lucy would allow him a day off from the Animus? Maybe, maybe not. His third thought was about how the feeling of somebody running their fingers through his hair felt so nice. Familiar too if he thought about it. That last train of thought woke Desmond up a little more. Why was someone in his room? How tired was he to not notice when someone had started touching him? He thought back to last night. He had gone to Lucy’s room to tell her about the strange memory/dream. And then his exhaustion had made its presence known. Had he fallen asleep in Lucy’s bed?

                _‘I think you know the answer to that, my friend.’_ Ezio snickered.

                Desmond did his best to hold back a groan. Slowly he opened his eyes and sat himself up. His clothes were rumpled, his hair was probably sticking up like crazy, and his mouth tasted like ass. He glanced to his left to see Lucy smiling at him. She had, at some point during the night, had changed into a large, oversized tee-shirt and a baggy pair of shorts.

                “G’morning.” Lucy said softly, “How’d you sleep?”

                “Uh, not too bad. Sorry that I…uh…took over your bed.” Desmond replied sheepishly.

                She gave a small laugh. “It’s okay. I just took yours for the night. Figured that you needed to sleep as long as you could. Plus it would’ve been kind of mean to wake you up after you just fell asleep.”  
                _‘Ah. Shame she didn’t join you.’_

“Well, I’m still sorry.” he stretched, ignoring Ezio’s comment. “What time is it?”

                Lucy grabbed the old alarm clock. “A little after nine.”

                A quiet moan left him as he stood up, stretching out some of the stiff muscles in his arms and neck. “I should have been in the Animus an hour ago. Shaun is going to be pissed.”

                “Pissed as in angry? Or pissed as in drunk?”

                Desmond chuckled. “Angry. But we should probably get changed and join them before they start looking for us.” He murmured to himself about he needed to get through today. The Battle of Forloli, something in Florence, and then one last run-In with Rodrigo Borgia. He doubted that he would be able to get through it all today, but one could hope.

                “Desmond?” Lucy said softly, drawing his attention back to her. “What you told me last night? You’ll tell me if it gets worse, right?”

                He stared at her, a little surprised at the sudden change in mood. All he could do was nod. Even with his silent agreement, Lucy didn’t look very relieved.

                “Everything okay in there?” he asked.

                _‘Ah, yes. A wonderful way to show your concern!’_ Ezio commented sarcastically.

                _Why the hell can’t you shut up for one hour?!_

                Lucy gnawed on her lower lip for a moment. “Maybe… maybe you should take a break from the Animus today. To help keep the Bleeding Effect under control.”

                Desmond stared at her for a long minute, a little surprised by the suggestion. “A-are you sure?”

                “Desmond, you’re already hearing your ancestor’s voices! And you’ve visited one of Altaïr’s memories without the Animus! I know we’re on a bit of a time crunch, but nothing about our situation will get better if you… if you start exhibiting the more…serious side effects.” Lucy finished softly, her gaze dropping away from his face to the bed.

                Desmond kept staring at her, noting the slight colour that had appeared in her cheeks, still surprised by her suggestion. But he guessed he shouldn’t be too surprised. Not when she had seen the Bleeding Effect at its worst.

                _‘You should answer her. It would be better than staring at her. Most women do enjoy the company of a man who can actually speak with some form of intelligence.’_

                “I… uh… I see your point.” Desmond answered dumbly. “But I don’t know if we’ll be able to afford it…”

                Lucy sighed. “Desmond, please…”

                “Alright, alright. I’ll take a day off if you do.” Desmond bargained. He could tell that she hadn’t been expecting that.  Her head had jerked up to look at him, her eyes wide, and her mouth slightly ajar.

                “I just can’t take a day off, Desmond-“

                “Then I guess I won’t be able to take a day off.”

                Lucy’s expression was priceless. If it was possible her eyes grew wider, and she was gaping like a fish trying to find words. He made his way towards the door. “Okay! Fine! I’ll take the day off! Just don’t go in the Animus today, okay?”

                He laughed. “I can do that. Besides, it’ll be nice to do something besides lying down and giving Shaun an excuse to call me lazy.”

                Lucy smiled as an airy laugh left her. And his heart, for the briefest moment, caught in his throat. In a far part of his mind, Desmond could hear his ancestor’s laughter.

                _Shit._

* * *

 

                Lucy watched as Desmond ran around the store room, scaling up and leaping from stack of crates to another. The sight was something she hadn’t really seen from him before. How graceful and methodical he was in his parkour. She wondered if he had absorbed any of his ancestors’ skills. Knowing how the Animus worked, he most likely had. But she had very little to compare to when it came to Desmond’s physical skills. Retreating out of a burning building didn’t give one much scope. For now though, Lucy was glad that Desmond’s personality hadn’t been influenced at all.  

                “So this is what you do with your free time?” she asked loudly.

                He turned to face her, giving her a small wave before replying. “I was feeling a little rusty. Plus Shaun and Rebecca are ‘debating’ over what tonight’s dinner should be. “

                “And when was that?”

                “Uh… half an hour ago, I think?”

                “Try an hour and an half, Desmond.” She laughed when she heard him swear. “Come over here and rest for a little bit.”

                “I could just sit here!” he yelled back.

                “Well, I don’t feel like yelling or joining you on top of a giant stack of crates.”

                He quickly made his way towards her, landing next to her with a soft thud. His usual white hoodie was tied around his waist; his dark grey tee-shirt clung to his torso, the material darker where it had absorbed his sweat. Lucy did her best not to blatantly stare as she held out a bottle of water for him.

                “So I got an email from the cell in Canada.” She said. “They uh, they wanted to thank you for the warning.”

                Desmond let out a sigh, a sheepish smile on his face. “So everyone got out okay then?” Lucy nodded. “Good… good…”

                She stared at him, a small smile on her face. Five years of knowing this man and he was still modest and bashful when his warnings were heeded. In her opinion, it was a good thing. Lucy had grown up hearing stories about assassin’s who had gotten too confident and cocky, and how it had bitten them in the ass. And she had seen Templars who needed a good dose of modesty and humbleness, along with plenty who needed to be knocked down several pegs. She wondered, though, how Desmond could seem so competent one moment and then be completely uncertain about any of his plans.

                _It probably comes with being raised by the Mentor,_ Lucy thought. All the pressure to follow in the footsteps of his ancestors, the expectations to become the Mentor at some point in his life… While her training had been intense at times, his probably had always been cranked up to eleven.

                “What? Is there something weird with my face?” Desmond suddenly joked, jerking Lucy out of her thought process.

                She felt herself blush. “N-no. Just thinking!”

                “About?” he pried.

                “How you never seem to take a break from training.” She blurted out. It was honestly the first thing that came to her mind. Rebecca had shown her the footage that Abstergo’s cameras had caught of his nightly routine earlier in the morning. Lucy had actually been very surprised at how many cameras had been set up. And surprised at how often his shirt was off after-hours. Pleasantly surprised, not that she would admit that to anyone. Afterwards, of course, Rebecca had offered her to show her footage of him in the shower. Lucy had vehemently refused to watch it.

                “Old habit, I guess.” Was Desmond’s reply. “Though I’ve let it slip the last couple of days. C’mon, let’s go see if we’re being omnivores or vegetarians tonight.”

                With no hesitation, she followed him down the hallway. And for a brief moment Lucy remembered how terrified she had been only two, three days ago to walk into the hideout.  She watched as Desmond walked a few steps ahead of her. And once more, Lucy wondered where she would be if Desmond hadn’t shown up when he did.


	13. Empty Stomachs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who commented and left kudos! It means a lot.  
> I've obivously gotten over my writers block and I'm currently working on the next chapter.  
> I look forward to everyone's reviews and kudos!

                Lucy had to keep reminding herself to breathe. To breathe in and out. But each step took her closer to Abstergo, closer to the Templar Headquarters, and closer to one of the most dangerous things she would ever do. The temptation to run to the hideout nipped at her heels. All she needed to do was to turn around and go.

                But she didn’t do that. Her feet kept moving towards the tall building. With each step, Lucy’s nerves grew. She clutched her hand-bag tighter as she approached the door; she hoped that her hands weren’t visibly shaking. Lucy knew, as she walked through the door, that she couldn’t turn back.

* * *

 

                The clock’s steady ticking seemed oppressive to Lucy’s ears. She had to tell herself not to look at the clock. But time continued to move at a snail’s pace. And it was driving Lucy up the wall. Her eyes kept darting towards Desmond’s still form.

                Today would mark his second day mostly spent in the Animus. And she really wished that she could talk him spreading out his sessions over multiple days. But he each time he said that he felt that Ezio was close to something and that it was better to find it sooner rather than later. She had paced on and off yesterday, until Shaun and Rebecca had given her a clipboard and shoved her into the warehouse. Today Rebecca had offered her to help with the Animus session. Shaun decided to stay busy by burying himself in various history texts and maps.

                So she watched Desmond’s progress on the monitor, waiting for her timer to go off. Her foot would tap against the floor as she watched Ezio made his way through Venice and Rome, made his way through bigger targets and more dangerous assignments. And Lucy was beginning to have a hard time separating Ezio from Desmond, even though she knew better.

                But it was difficult when she had seen Desmond practice his parkour only days before. It seemed Desmond and his ancestors shared a love of climbing tall things, and with their approach of scaling things very similar (according to Shaun and Rebecca at least) it had been hard to hell how much Desmond had absorbed. She glanced at the timer.

                “Five minute mark.” She announced to Rebecca.

                The techie nodded and gave Desmond the heads up. Lucy wondered if he would be distant again. All of yesterday when he was out of the Animus, he didn’t talk much to her. There were no wise-cracks or attempts at humor. He had just given her a tired smile and answered her questions, nothing more. He wasn’t cold towards her, but he was holding back for some reason or another. It worried Lucy that he would stop keeping her informed about his ‘condition’.

                _Don’t think like that,_ she told herself, _Desmond’s been honest about the Bleeding Effect so far, he isn’t going to stop all of the sudden._

                The next five minutes were torturous. Lucy just wanted to yank him out and keep him out. But she knew that Desmond was going to go straight back in about an hour or so. Soon she found herself standing next to the Animus, ready to pull out the needle and to help him focus on the modern day rather than the past.

                “Annnd… we’re good!” Rebecca stated loudly.

                Desmond groaned, cracking his eyes open.

                “Good morning sleeping beauty!” Shaun said cheerily as Lucy helped Desmond right himself up. “Have a pleasant nap while the rest of us worked?”

                “Shaun!” Lucy groaned in annoyance.

                “If you wanna give it a go, be my guest! But that means I have to do your job.” Desmond replied wearily, but everyone could hear the humor in his voice.

                Shaun scoffed. “Thanks, but I think a toddler would do better.”

                Chuckles filled the room, lifting it temporarily from the heaviness that filled it before. Slowly Desmond got out of the machine. It didn’t surprise Lucy that he was a little unsteady as he stood up. She helped him steady himself, bracing herself in case he couldn’t keep himself up right. But all he needed to do was regain his bearings for a moment.

                “You good?” she asked softly.

                His warm brown eyes settled on her face and she hoped that he would sy something to lighten the mood, that he wouldn’t continue to distance himself from her. He gave her a warm smile and nodded.

                “I’m good. Thanks, Lucy.”

                She smiled back, hope cautiously rising as he slowly pulled away. Lucy wanted to say something but everything she thought of seemed too childish or foolish. So she just nodded and made her way to the kitchen. Now that Desmond was out of the Animus, most of her nerves had been abated and revealed the true extent of her hunger. It wouldn’t do anyone any good if she didn’t take care of herself.

                _Maybe,_ she told herself, _I can convince Desmond to stay out of the Animus for the rest of the day._

                But Lucy knew that in order to do that, she was going to need a semblance of a full stomach.

* * *

 

                _‘You’re being a fool.’_ Ezio sighed dramatically.

                _‘I was hoping that you would fare better than I did.’_ Altaïr grumbled, Ezio let out a murmur of agreement.

                Desmond did his best to ignore them both. Giving either of them attention right now would only make things worse. Possibly make them even chattier. And right now, all he wanted was silence in his own head. Or to at least be able to think without running commentary. It was difficult enough to grasp that at some point his feelings for Lucy had evolved. And it was already difficult to sort through any of his emotions  with the stressful situation they were in; the addition of his ancestor’s opinions and comments didn’t help.

                _‘I promise you, the sooner you stop acting like this is the most devastating news, the sooner you can properly sort through your emotions.’_ Altaïr growled.

                Desmond bit back a groan. Of his tow ancestors, he was not expecting Altaïr to be the most vocal on the subject. He could practically hear the legendary assassin angrily pacing, grumbling about several things. Though maybe he should have expected it. But he still wanted Altaïr to stop mumbling. Desmond could barely understand what his ancestor was saying and it was only adding to his newly building headache.

                His stomach rumbled noisily, temporarily drawing is attention away from his current musings. Food. Food would help. With both his hunger and headache.

                Probably.

                Most likely.

                _Just get some damn food._


	14. Puzzle Solved

****

****Desmond stared up at the ceiling that he didn’t think he would ever see again. That he hadn’t plan on seeing again. But that, that was barely a month ago when he had those thoughts. Back when he thought his parents were part of some strange crazy cult.

              Now though, things were different. Now Desmond knew. Okay, so maybe he didn’t know everything, but he understood. He understood a number of things. And he wasn’t sure how he felt about it all. He barely registered the soft knock at his door.

              “Desmond?” his mom’s voice muffled slightly by the door. “I brought you some food.”

              Guilt gnawed viciously at him at her words. He know that he had made her worry immensely. If he had known...

              Too late to take any of it back now. He was going to have to deal with the consequences of his actions soon. Afterall, his little runaway stunt had nearly caused a complete relocation of the Farm and probably, most likely, took a few years off of the lives of both of his parents. So he kept silent, not quiet ready to face either of his parents, especially his mother. Of course, his mom came in anyway (as most moms do).

              “Desmond? Have you... have you eaten anything yet?” she asked.

              He shook his head minutely.

              “You should have a little something.”

              Awkward silence filled the small bedroom. Desmond wasn’t sure what to say or if he should say, anything at all. He could only assume that the same could be said for her. The soft clink of a plate being set down on his dresser seemed to be louder than it actually was.

              “Des,” his mom paused for a long moment, “Des, I just want you to know... I just want you to know that I’m so happy you’re okay.”

              Desmond heard the relief in her voice and the slight hitch in it. He was going to make her cry. Granted they were happy tears. But they were tears he caused. How many other times had he made her cry when he left?

              He heard her move to leave.

              “I’m sorry, Mom.”

              Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her stop. The silence that filled the was more painful than awkward. Desmond really, really wanted her to say something.

              “I know, Des. I know.”

              He saw her smile. He felt a little better.

* * *

 

              Desmond really, really wanted to run away right now. Or at least find a good hiding spot. But Lucy had that determined look on her face, and she was already worried and suspicious about his very recent behavior. And if he had learned anything from the people around him (mainly bar patrons), generally running away from problems tended to make them worse. He gave Lucy a small smile, hoping that she wouldn’t question him too much.

              “Anything left?” Desmond asked as he headed to the small fridge.

              She shrugged. “Some of last night’s dinner, a few frozen dinners.”

              “Slim pickins’, huh?” he mused as he opened the fridge door. “I really don’t want to do a food run. Hey, there’s some yogurt back here.”

              “Don’t you _dare_ touch that.” Lucy said darkly.

              Desmond turned his head to see that she was glaring daggers at him, her hand tightly gripping her fork. He was certain that if he was standing next to her, she wouldn’t hesitate to stab that fork near his hand.

              “Uh...”

              “That is mine.” Lucy continued, “And if you touch it, I will end you.”

              Desmond nodded and grabbed the tupperware of leftovers. “Protective much?” he teased.

              She sighed. “Well half of my stash disappeared, and I’m still trying to figure out who ate them.”

              “And you haven’t had a chance to replace it?” he finished.

              “That and it’s the good stuff.”

              “Ah.”

               _‘Well you know how to get into her good graces!’_ Ezio laughed.

              Desmond frowned. _I didn’t ask for your commentary._

_The Italian scoffed. ‘Nonsense! You clearly need all the help you can get! By the time you make your move, the Mentor and I will be grey and unable to leave our chairs.’_

_Please, please. Shut. Up!_

_‘Ah-ha! You don’t deny it! You don’t deny that you need help!’_

_Can’t you just mumble or something like Altaїr?_

_‘And miss out on an opportunity to help our glorious bloodline to continue? I-“_

“DESMOND!” Lucy’s shout made him jump and cut off Ezio. Desmond’s eyes fell onto Lucy’s face. Her eyes were wide and her face pale. And that’s when he realized that he had been so focused on his conversation with his ancestor, he had tuned out Lucy completely.

              “I--...” he was at a loss for words.

              “Are you... are you with me?” Lucy asked softly.

              Desmond nodded. “Yeah... Jesus. I... Sorry about... that.” was all he could stammer out, embarrassment and horror washing through him. Could things get any worse?

              “What happened, Desmond? One minute you were with me and then the next...” Lucy let her words trail off. Guilt began to filter in with his other emotions and Desmond was at a loss for words again.

               _‘Tell her what you can. It will help put her at ease.’_ Altaїr suggested calmly.

              “Desmond?”

              “I-I’m sorry. Ezio started... uh... Ezio started talking. And he just wouldn’t shut up.” Desmond gritted out the last bit. If he could, he would strangle Ezio in a heartbeat.

              Lucy moved to the chair next to him. “Talking about what exactly?”

               _Shit_. “Just attempting to give advice. Or wanting to complain in general.” He hoped that she wouldn’t press for any details. He doubted he could come up with something moderately believable on the spot.

              She was silent for a moment before speaking again. “Was it just Ezio?”

              “Yeah.. for that..” he replied softly, letting himself rub his temples. His headache was starting to build up again. “Altaїr has been grumbling and muttering all day. Been giving me a headache.”

               _Among other things._

_“And this started today?” she asked gently. His heart constricted slightly at the worry in her eyes, knowing he was the cause of it._

_Desmond shook his head. “They’ve been like this since yesterday.” he explained. “I’m wondering if part of it is my own restlessness.”_

_“What do you mean?”_

_A long sigh left him. “We’re getting to finding out whatever Ezio discovered, I know it. And we’ve got one more of Clay’s puzzles to solve. Once we get that done, we’ll know what the Templars are really after and then we can figure out what to do next.” It was the truth, the main reason he had been pushing himself lately._

_‘That, and it keeps you from directly spending time with your Lady Love.’_ Ezio added.

               _Shut up_. Desmond and Altaїr snapped.

              “Desmond... I know you probably don’t want to hear this,” Lucy began, “but I think you need to stay out of the Animus. At least for the rest of the day.”

              They lapsed into silence. He knew that she was right. Nearly a day and an half in the Animus and the effects were clearly beginning to show. Ezio was getting louder (and more obnoxious) and Altaїr wasn’t hesitating in giving his opinion anymore. And while the ghost-like figures weren’t increasing in staying time, they were becoming more defined. But they were still in a Templar controlled city. It would only be a matter of time until the hideout was located. Whenever that occurred, there would be no telling of how much time they would actually have to discover what Abstergo wanted from Ezio’s memories. Or to even escape.

               _‘You’ll have to strike a bargain with her,’_ Altaїr sighed, _‘and hope that she will accept it.’_

_            And if she doesn’t? _

_ ‘If not, put yourself at her mercy. It’s easier than fighting.’ _

__ Ezio scoffed.  _ ‘That’s your only advice? Hope for the best and roll over like dog?’ _

_            ‘In my personal experience, yes. Yes it is.’ _

__ Desmond didn’t dare add any of his own commentary. The last thing he needed was an argument and having to pick sides. And he didn’t dare let himself be pulled into another conversation. Not after what just happened. He could still see the anxiety in Lucy’s eyes. Guilt settled low in the pit of his stomach. He was the cause of her worry. And he knew that he would continue to be until he no longer needed to go into the Animus.

           “I can’t stay out of the Animus all day, Lucy. Not when we’re so close.”

           Her brow furrowed at his words. “The bleeding effect is only going to get worse the more time you spend in there. You really need at least a day out of it.” she explained.

           “Then... how about just long enough to solve Clay’s last puzzle?”

           “You mean Shaun?”

           “Well, that goes without saying.” He replied with a wry grin.

           A small chuckle slipped past her lips before she began debating with herself. Every so often she would gently worry her bottom lip, her eyes focused on an unseen spot on the table... Desmond braced himself. Any minute she was going to reject his plan. Tell him that it was too risky.

           “Shaun will have one hour. One hour, not minute longer. Got it?”

           He stared at her blankly for what felt like several minutes, surprised. He nodded quickly, knowing better than to push for more time. She was the Animus expert afterall.

* * *

 

           “You do know that Clay’s file would be a little easier to decipher without the time constraint, right?” Shaun asked testily.

           “Fourty-five minutes left.” Lucy replied calmly; she resisted the urge to add in her own ideas of how to solve Clay’s puzzle. Desmond already had enough trouble with the previous ones, the last thing he needed was potentially conflicting solutions. Her gaze stayed firmly on the progress monitor. So far, everything was going smoothly. But Lucy knew she would feel better if Desmond didn’t have to go back into the machine at all, even with their bargain.

           His earlier distraction only confirmed her fears. The Bleeding Effect was starting to make itself known. From now on they had to be incredibly careful of how long he stayed in the Animus. If he wanted to keep it at bay, he would either stay out of the Animus from now on or keep the time of his sessions as short as possible. But Desmond could be stubborn at times. And Lucy wondered if he would try and find ways to stay in the Animus longer to finish Ezio’s history. She tried not to show how terrified she was. She had never seen someone exhibit Desmond’s most common symptom; holding full conversations with his ancestors. She was used to seeing people starting to believe that they were their ancestors, getting realities confused because of it. Conversations was a whole new territory. Altaїr’s or Ezio’s personality hadn’t bleed into Desmond’s like it was for most people. Was it because had more general knowledge of the Animus and the Bleeding Effect? Or maybe he had found a way to keep his personality separated from his ancestors? Either way, Lucy was going to have to investigate this. She would need Rebecca to try and access any files from Abstergo’s Animus Project. And she was going to have to question Desmond. She just hoped that his symptoms weren’t server.

_ Just... Just try and stay calm. Nothing is going to get solved if you panic.  _ she told herself.  _ Desmond will be fine. You can do research later. _

_            Her gaze focused on Desmond once more. How much longer would he need to even use the Animus? He believed that they were close to discovering what the Templars were after in Ezio’s past (“It has to be something other than the Apple!” _ Desmond had muttered to himself one night). If he was right, what would be next? Besides the obvious retrieval of the Apple, what would be next for them? Would they be needed elsewhere? Would they be separated, called away to different places in need of certain expertise? Would...

           Would Desmond and her be separated? Be given different assignments? The thought made Lucy freeze. She was so used to his presence; the thought had never truly accrued to her until now. Had he considered such a thing?

           For five years they had been constant in each other’s lives. Desmond had become her closest friend and confident. Could she go back to keeping minimal contact with those she cared about? She wasn’t so sure. There was doubt in her mind that there was a high chance she would be reassigned with a new partner. Or be take out of the field, training others to do undercover assignments. Before she started her infiltration if Abstergo, Lucy would have been thrilled at the prospect of training others or another assignment. Now, she wondered if she could even handle the idea of the next generation following her footsteps. She had thought herself strong enough, Desmond father’s had believed that she was strong enough, as had her instructors; but she had nearly given in. Only two years in and she had nearly become a Templar. She shuddered to think of what would have happened if Desmond hadn’t shown up.

           “Finally! ‘bout bloody time.” Shaun cried, breaking her train of thought.

           It took her a moment to regain her composure. “Are you sure?”

           He nodded. “Positive. All we have to do is wait for Rebecca to - ” Suddenly his eyes widen and the clacking of Rebecca’s keyboard stopped. Before Lucy could even ask what was wrong, she saw what caused them to stop. The small recordings that Clay had saved just pieced themselves back together.

           And then it played.

           They watched as the man and woman ran, only getting the briefest glimpse of their faces. The only feature that was truly clear was the glowing glyph-like marks on their skin as they ran through an impossible structure, a building. Lucy’s eyes widened when she saw the factory like room inside the building the pair was climbing up, and at the sight of the Apple in someone’s hand. All too quickly the pair in the video climbed to the top of the building.

_ “Adam! I have it!” _ the woman cried, holding up another Apple of Eden.

           Lucy’s mind froze, barely comprehending the last few seconds of the video.  _ There... There’s another Apple? _

_            “Wow.” was all Rebecca managed to get out. _

_            “What that what I think it was?” Shaun asked the others. _

_            Lucy wasn’t sure if she wanted an answer. _

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone who has left kudos and waited patiently for this chapter.  
> I hope to see your reviews/comments!


	15. Too Shy

** Too Shy **

              For a couple of days, Lucy would see Mr. Mile’s son here and there. Always on the outskirts and hardly ever speaking to the other trainees. And then he would be gone for weeks, months at a time. Training at some mystery location.

              Lucy only saw him occasionally and at a distance. In those instances, if she was up early enough, she would see him jogging laps around the training complex. Throughout the day she would see him leave him leaving various training stations and areas before groups would arrive. And around dinner time, she would see him heading back to his father’s house. Often she would see Mrs. Miles walking with him, the two of them talking. Lucy wondered what they would talk about.

              She wondered why she hadn’t seen him around the Farm more often. Someone eventually informed her that Miles had run off some time ago and had had some kind of run in with Templars; it was after that that Mr. Miles had sent his son to another location to train. What had it been like, Lucy wondered, to come face to face with a Templar before you were ready. What was it like to be sent off to be trained by another assassin when it was common knowledge that his father could teach him the skills he would need in the future. There were times at night, when he was at the Farm, she would see him sitting on top of the roof.

              It made her wonder if Mr. Miles would let her visit her parents at some point. Or maybe at least call them. But for now, Lucy wondered what made Desmond Miles go to his parents’ roof top each night he was home.

* * *

 

              They were all silent. No one was sure what to say or how to proceed. Shaun and Rebecca just stared at one anther. Desmond couldn’t decide if he wanted to pace or sit. Lucy...Lucy just sat, tapping her foot lightly on the floor. Another Apple. No. Scratch that. A completely different history all together. That much could be certain.

              “Do we... do we have some sort of protocol for this?” Shaun asked.

              “Well if we do, someone forgot to tell me.” Desmond grumbled.

              An aggravated huff left Rebecca. “Great. Either way, we can’t sit on this!”

              “We don’t even know what is exactly! For all we know it could be some kind of trap. Something to lure out Assassins!” Shaun argued.

              “Or-! it could be something that Clay discovered and didn’t want Abstergo to find.” Rebecca shot back.

              “Or there could be more to it.” Lucy said as she removed herself from her seat. “Rebecca, are there any other anomalies? Or glitches?”

              “Uh... not that I saw. I can do a scan and see if I can find anything.” Rebecca replied.

              “So, any ideas on what we do with Clay’s file?” Desmond asked. “Besides sit on it.”

              Lucy let out a long sigh. “It probably needs to be analyzed.”

              “Ha. That’s the understatement of the century.” Shaun snorted.

              “Okay. Better question. Who do we send it to? There’s gotta be someone who can do a proper analysis.” she replied.

              Again, everyone went quiet. Lucy began to gently gnaw on her lower lip. She watched as Desmond went back to his pacing. His shoulders were tense, one of his hands would run through his short hair every few steps, his eyes would occasionally dart over to where she and the others were.

              “Maybe... maybe we need to send it to the Mentor.” Lucy said softly.

              The words caused Desmond to pause and she almost wished she hadn’t said anything.

              She continued. “He knows who’s stationed where and probably has a better idea of who could break down the video and the file.”

              “We should probably send all the puzzle footage as well.” Shaun added. “After all, some of the things that Clay included could provide some context for other things.”

              Desmond stood in spot, a long sigh leaving him as he stared blankly at the window. He nodded, and Lucy felt some of her nervous tension leave.

              “Can’t really argue with that. But it’s probably gonna make him loose his shit.”

              Everyone gave a light chuckle at that. Rebecca continued to scour through the Animus coding to see if there were any more of Clay’s files. Shaun began gathering the various video files to send to Bill. And Lucy began the motions to fully shut down the Animus for the day, until Desmond came up to her.

              “I just thought of something.” he said in a low voice “What if Clay’s file has something to do with whatever Ezio found with the Apple?”

              Her brow furrowed. “Like, expanding on whatever it may have revealed to him?”

              He nodded. “Or give it context.”

              It could be possible. Maybe the video was only confusing them because they only had half of the story or puzzle.

              “So... maybe we’ll find out more tomorrow.” Lucy said softly. Her gaze turned to Desmond. Whatever she would have said next was forgotten. He was slightly hunched over, eyes closed tightly, his face reading discomfort. Almost immediately alarm bells went off in her mind.

              “Desmond?” She gently placed her hand on one of his shoulders, ready to guide him to sit down if need be. She kept her voice in the same hushed tone. “Desmond?”

              She watched his features for any changes. The only thing Lucy saw was the clenching of his jaw and his breathing seemed to go a little slower and a little deeper.

              “I’m okay...” Desmond murmured.

              A quiet sigh of relief left her. At least he was still continuing his unusual trend of being able to keep a grip on his Bleeding Effect. “Do you want to sit down?”

              ”...No... no... Just... just give me a moment.” he replied. She nodded, keeping her hand on his shoulder. “I, uh... Can I...?”

              “Do what you need to do.” Lucy said softly, moving her other hand to his other shoulder.

              His weight leaned into her hands and smaller frame. She stiffened for a moment as he moved his own hands onto her waist and an arm. his eyes were still closed, but slowly his features relaxed. His breathing evened out and his shoulders began to relax. Carefully Lucy brought her hands to his temples, her fingertips gently rubbing circles. At the start of Clay’s symptoms, the action had helped. Not much. But it had helped. Desmond’s head leaned into her hands. A small sigh reached her ears. It took her a moment to realize it had come from Desmond.

              “Better?”

              He nodded and she pulled her hands away. For a moment she hesitated where to place them before placing them back on his shoulders. His eyes partially opened and he gave her a smile.

              “Thanks.” Desmond let out a slow even breath. “And sorry. Didn’t mean to make you worry.”

           Lucy returned his smile. “It’s okay. Ezio and Alta ïr?” He nodded. “Do I even want to know?”

           “Just... just being very vocal with their advice.”

           Again, her brow furrowed. For several long moments Lucy debated with herself if she should press for more information or not. But what she had seen of Ezio’s and Altaïr’s interactions (in their original time lines), primarily Altaïr, she could guess that they were pressing him to get back into the Animus. She was glad that after tomorrow’s session, Desmond wouldn’t be going back into that machine. Unless whatever they found tomorrow forced him back in. It was something they all feared. Or at least, that was the vibe Lucy got. She could tell Desmond was worried about his Bleeding Effect symptoms. Rebecca was starting to voice worries about her Animus and Abstergo’s memory core compatibility. Shaun, with each update from Italy’s and other various European cells, grew more antsy and eager to relocate. And Lucy was certain that everyone shared Shaun’s sentiment. She knew that she did.

           Suddenly, she felt Desmond rest his forehead against hers. And she felt herself go ridged.

           ”...Desmond?”

           “Hmm?”

           “Are you... Do you want to go lay down or...?” She felt her checks grow warm.

           “No. No... Just trying to concentrate on something that isn’t my ancestors.”

           “Oh. Okay.” was what she managed to stutter out.

           She felt nervousness begin to build up in the very pit of her stomach and she kept her eyes down, looking at their feet. His warm breath gently fanned over her face. She could feel the warmth of his hands through her clothing, one of his thumbs occasionally moving in a soft circle. Eventually, Lucy risked a glance up. And she found honey-hued eyes staring back at her. His eyes half-lidded, his gaze focused souly on her. The look in them... it reminded her of that night barely a week ago when he had comforted her, cupped her face... Her heart sped up ever-so slightly.

_ Is he... is he getting closer? _

_            Her heart quickened pace again and the tip of her tongued darted out to wet her suddenly dry lips. his pupils seemed to dilate at the small action. there was little doubt in her mind that her own eyes were the same. She stole a quick glance at his lips. _

_ Do I ... do I really -? _

__ Before she had a chance to finish her train of thought, a loud clatter and the sound of ice and soda spilling on the floor startled to the two of them.

           “Ah! Shit!” Rebecca cursed as she got out off her seat to lift cables off the floor. “Damnit, just when it was getting good!”

           Lucy quickly looked over at Shaun, who was leaning awkwardly over in his seat to see around his monitors, to see him give the tech an irritated glare.

           “Oh, nice work Rebecca!” he cried. Shaun looked back at Lucy and Desmond, and had the good sense to appear sheepish. “Uhm... hello. Lovely day, isn’t it?”

           They groaned and stepped further apart. Lucy paled when she realized that two of her friends had been eagerly watching her and Desmond. And then her embarrassment hit full force when she realized that her entire exchange with Desmond had been watched like a soap opera.

           “Eh hehe... don’t mind us!” Rebecca added as she started mopping up her spill.

           Lucy wanted to go hide and strangle the pair. It was hard to decide which one she she wanted to do more. She risked a quick glance over to Desmond. his back was turned to her, and she was unable to see his face. No doubt he was just as embarrassed as she was.

           “I’ll be in the store room if you need me.” He announced before stalking off.

           As tempted as she was to follow him, Lucy stayed behind. She went through the steps of turning the Animus off, wondering what would have happened if they hadn’t been interrupted.

* * *

 

           He had no idea what came over him. Okay. He had a general idea of what the hell happened. 

_            ‘You spineless-! I don’t even have words for your actions back!’ _ Ezio growled.  _ ‘Or lack of!’ _

_            Oh, shut up. _ Desmond growled back.

_ ‘You had her right there! Right in your arms! And you did nothing! Nothing!’ _

_ ‘Or maybe he doesn’t want to show his affections for her in front of all his companions! Maybe our descendant would like to have any moment with her privately!’ _ Altaïr snapped.  _ ‘Now be silent and leave the boy alone.’ _

_ ‘But-!’ _

_            ‘Silence!’ _

Desmond sighed as the older of his two ancestors reigned in the other, greatful for the silence in his own head. He was already shocked and embarrassed by his own actions. All he had wanted to do was to get Lucy to agree to letting tomorrow’s Animus session being as long as they could possibly afford. But before he could even ask that, Altaïr and Ezio began to talk. Well, whisper. Altaïr had tried to give advice in negotiating. Ezio had tried to give advice and ‘encouragement’ in seducing. And then they had started to argue. Altaïr attempted to chastise the Italian for prioritizing romance over the mission. In retaliation, Ezio made jabs at the older assassin’s more serious nature. It had turned loud and nonsensical quickly, giving Desmond one of his worse Bleeding Effect induced headaches to date.

               _‘Be reasonable, Mentore!’_ Ezio had said. _‘He’s been so focused on his work! He deserves a break from his stress life with his lady love!’_

The comment only increased the volume of the bickering between the two. And then when Lucy touched him, called out to him, it caused both ancestors to fall silent. If they had been the occasional whisper, Desmond had blocked them out. He had given his full attention to her. He had forgotten the others in the room, about his ancestors in his head. His world had narrowed down to the gentle touch on his temples, blue eyes, and the soft, hushed whispered of Lucy’s voice. It had been comforting and inviting. He lost himself in Lucy’s touch.

              It was the first time in a long time he allowed himself to do that. So when Rebecca had knocked her drink over, it had been jarring. And it made Desmond realize how close he had been to spilling his heart out to Lucy. In front of his friends. When he was still...

_‘Being a coward? Acting like a shy child?’_ Ezio jabbed.

               _‘Unsure of the young lady’s feelings?’_ Altaïr helpfully offered.

              Desmond’s face grew warm and it took him a minute to realize that he was blushing. This...this was too much. And this had to be the worst timing ever. He needed to go for a run. Clear his head.

              Except he couldn’t. Had they been anywhere else he would have run out the storeroom door, down the street, and run until his legs threatened to give out. But he was stuck in the damn warehouse. Stuck retreading the same paths and obstacles. If they didn’t have a pressing reason to move within the next few days, Desmond might have to invent a reason to relocate.

               _‘Do what you can here. It’ll help.’_ Altaïr said kindly. Thankfully Ezio stayed silent.

              Desmond just launched himself at a stack of crates. He went through the series of obstacles that he had set up for himself in the past. He was on cruise control the whole time. Keeping a steady pace, letting his thoughts turn away from the things troubling him. Occasionally he created a new challenge for himself, trying to implement skills that he had observed (or maybe absorbed) skills that he had observed from Ezio. At one point, he took off his hoodie. he must have crossed the room a dozen times over. The sweat on his skin was absorbed by his clothing.

              Desmond only stopped when his hands began to be too slick. Hauling himself up on top a stack of crates, he let himself collapse. Feet and legs dangling over the edge, arms spread out as he took deep breaths. The AC cooling down his skin. Though soon enough it would be unpleasant.

              “Hey buddy! Want some H2O?” Rebecca called out.

              With a groan, Desmond propped himself up onto his elbows. She was half way across the store room a large bottle of water in one of her hands. Jesus. He hadn’t realized how dehydrated he was until Rebecca had asked.

              “Yes.” he replied loudly.

              “Then move your lazy ass and get over here!” she laughed.

              He groaned again. “Ugh! Can’t you come over here? I’m too wrecked to move.”

              “And who’s fault is that?” Came her reply. “Now get your butt over here and hydrate!”

              “And why can’t you come over here?”

              “Uh... Does it look like I do parkour?”

              Well, she did have a point there. Reluctantly he got up from his spot. It took him a while, seeing how the path of least resistance required a couple of jumps and hauling himself over the railing.

              “I hate you right now. You know that?” Desmond said as he took the bottle of water from Rebecca’s hand. “I was all comfy and situated on those crates and you had to make me move.”

              She laughed. “You’ll thank me later. I’m sure those crates aren’t as comfortable as you make them out to be.”

              He shrugged, taking a long sip from the bottle. They were silent for several long moment. The low hum of the air conditioner filled the large room. The two of them fidgeting and shifting every once in a while.

              “So... sorry for disrupting your mojo back there.” she finally said.

              A sigh passed Desmond’s lips. “Don’t... don’t worry about it.”

              From the corner of his eye, he saw her mess with hands. “Are you sure? I mean, you were _that_ close to finally-“

              “I said don’t worry about it.” he said sharply. Perhaps a little too sharp. “Look, now... now isn’t the time for this.”

              Rebecca scoffed. “Really?”

              He shot her an annoyed look. “Yes. Really.”

              A low groan left her. “Ugh... This is ridiculous.” Was her whispered response. Rebecca probably had no intention for him to her it.

              “Seriously. Just... let me handle it. My way.” Desmond sighed.

              “Ah, Desmond! C’mon! How long are you gonna take?” she groaned.

              He rubbed his face, as if trying to rub away the irritation and tiredness. “Are we really that low on entertainment that my life is the center attention?”

              “Maybe Shaun and me are getting tried of you pussy-footing around?”

              “I’m not -“

              “Maybe, between the two of us, we know you’ll ‘wait until the missions over’. And then you’ll wait until the _next_ mission is over. And then the next. And the next -“

              “Okay! Okay! I get it!” he gritted out. “You and Shaun are more observant than I give you credit for.” was his sarcastic reply.

              She gave him a wry smile. “So... Are you gonna tell her tomorrow?”

              He studied her for a long moment. She looked overly hopeful and expectant.

               _I should’ve known_.

               _‘What?’_ Ezio replied.

               _They’ve got bets on us. On me and Lucy._

_‘Of course they have. They have had nothing in the form of gossip. And you’re their leader. It’s only natural for them to observe and speculate your social life._ ’ Altaïr answered.

              “Are ya?” Rebecca asked, hoping for an answer.

              He gave her a long speculative look. “Maybe. Now if you excuse me, I’m gonna shower. I’m pretty sure I smell worse than a skunk.” And he walked off.

              “Aw! C’mon!”

              “Goodnight Rebecca!”

              He ignored her indigent groans and crys. There was no way Desmond was going to help anyone win a bet. At least, not intentionally. So tomorrow _he_ would go back into the Animus, figure out what Ezio learned in Rome, and then his team would head out to where-ever they needed to. And then they would take a vacation of some sort. As long as they could afford.

               _‘Sounds reasonable, novice._ ’ Altaïr said.

               _‘Yes... Very reasonable.’_ Ezio agreed. _‘But what about tomorrow? When you have to face your lady love?’_

_That made him pause._

_“Ah, shit.”_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait times between updates.   
> I've been trying to figure out the pacing for the future chapters and such. But hopefully by the next chapter, we'll be done with Assassin's Creed II and be heading into Brotherhood.  
> Looking forward your comments and kudos!


	16. Even More Complicated

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry with how long it took me to update. Life thoroughly got in the way.  
> But more importantly, I hope to have the next chapter up soon.  
> Thank you so much for everyone who has left kudos and comments. They really do help.
> 
> Also, please note that this chapter had not gone through a beta reader.

**  Even More Complicated **

              Training, for the lack of a better word, was intense. Desmond found it harder than training with his father had ever been. It made him wonder if the old man had unintentionally gone easy on him. Or maybe he was just used to his dad’s way of teaching.

              “Break’s over.” The man now in charge of his training, Jack, said. “Grab some water and be ready for the next set.”

              Desmond nodded, taking in a few more deep, even breaths before doing as the older man instructed. Within the past five months everything he had earned had been tested. A lot of what he had learned had to be relearned in some fashion. Some of it having to be scrapped entirely and relearned from the ground up.

              Nearly everyday Jack made some sort of comment.

              “Stop hunching your back! You’re gonna lose your balance!”

              “C’mon newbie! You’ve got legs for a reason. Use them!”

              “Are you trying to get caught? Because I think even the _dead_ can hear you.”

              But it wasn’t always sharp critiques and comments. Sometimes the man was helpful. Wordlessly correcting Desmond’s stance or posture, giving an occasional explanation as to why one way over another. The routines kept changing, giving Desmond and the dozen and an half other recruits n chance to get used to them. For a few weeks they would work on stealth. Another few weeks, the focus would shift to mobility and speed. Other times hand to hand combat, sometimes it was weapons training. Jack never let them grow used to a training regiment. He would easily spot where peoples’ strengths and weaknesses were and constantly push them.

              The only constant was the strength training. Everyone’s strength training was focused on the recruits own needs, refining areas in which they were strong in and building up their weaker areas. Jack, it seemed, was determined to turn Desmond into a machine. The man rarely let him get used to the number of reps, sets, or weight The moment he realized the teen had gotten used to his current routine, he made sure to up everything. It was like the older man was trying to make every muscle in his body burn, ache, and hurt. He was building up and strengthen muscles Desmond didn’t even know he had. Honestly, Desmond would have grown to loath the training facility if it hadn’t been for Jack’s wife, Angela.

              If Jack was the bad cop, then Angela was the good cop. Always there with a kind word and a ready ear for the complaints of disgruntled teenagers. Which was probably due to the fact that she was the primary doctor on site along with being a psychiatrist. It also helped that she was quite the cook, her German and Swedish heritage commonly showing in a number of meals . Though Desmond wouldn’t say Angela’s cooking was better than his mom’s. Nothing bested her roasted chicken in his mind. And her garlic parmesan potatoes. He would go through hell and back for her roast chicken and garlic parmesan potatoes. And probably the same for his mother’s cheesecake. Mmm... cheesecake...

              “I don’t know what has you so happy, but you’re going to cut yourself cutting those carrots.” Angela said in her accented English, a smile on her face.

              Her comment very quickly pulled him out of his reminiscing. “Sorry.” Quickly he returned his attention to his task, ignoring the small chuckles and giggles from the two other recruits helping with dinner.

              “It’s alright.” she replied. “I’m assuming you’re thinking about someone’s cooking.”

              Desmond nodded. “My mom’s. She makes the best roast chicken.”

              It was quiet for a brief moment before the youngest of the girls spoke up. “My grandpa makes the best curry.” And from there it was a nearly endless stream of comparison and bragging, him and the two other recruits temporarily forgetting their intense training regiments. All of them enjoying the sharing of their memories of their favorite foods. The two missed Jack coming into the kitchen for a brief moment and sharing a fond with Angela. His fellow recruits may have missed it, but Desmond didn’t. And if the slight nod of the head from Jack meant anything, it was that he hadn’t missed his noticing.

               _I...just upped my training, didn’t I?_

The next day Desmond was proven right.

\-----

Progress was slow. And it was driving Desmond mad. He knew that Lucy was watching the minutes, waiting for the moment she could pull him out. Though he doubted she would pull him out in the middle of Ezio’s infiltration of the Vatican. And Desmond was not looking forward to Ezio’s upcoming confrontation with Roderigo Borgia.

              The last time the two had exchanged blows, it hadn’t been pleasant. Or at least, Desmond wasn’t a fan of feeling like he was in a fist fight he wasn’t actually in. But there wasn’t much he could do about the situation. Not if he wanted to know what Abstergo was after.

 _“Could this go any slower?”_ Shaun groaned.

               _“It’s the Vatican. What do you want? For me to suddenly be able to teleport where-ever?”_ Desmond snapped back.

               _“Nothing about this was going to be easy.”_ Lucy commented.

               _“Really, I expected this was going to go a lot faster._ ” Shaun replied. _“One of the greatest assassin’s in the history of the organization, and he takes forever to get into a giant church.”_

 _“You say that like you can do better._ ” Rebecca teased.

              The historian sputtered for a moment. _“I was just saying-”_

 Desmond tuned them out, more concerned about fighting Ezio’s nemesis. He could feel Ezio’s measured control and fire for revenge, for answers. With no idea how long this fight would last, Desmond was prepared for it to last for some time. Roderigo did have the Apple with him; and if Altaïr’s fight with Al Mualim taught him anything, fights with Pieces of Eden involved were long and hard. Honestly, they took forever.

              It was a moment that he wished he could hear Altaïr’s comments within the Animus. But he was left with his own thoughts and hindsight. Within the Animus, Ezio’s thoughts and feeling were memories he got a front seat to. It was something that he still hadn’t gotten used to. Not after so many hours. If he was lucky, he would never get used to it.

              He barely paid any attention to Ezio’s and Roderigo’s banter, more concerned with mentally preparing himself for the incoming fight.

              And it was just as difficult as Desmond had imagined. It was very much like Altaïr’s fight with his mentor. He could feel his ancestor’s exhaustion slowly creep into his system. The Apple didn’t help matters either. With the pope using it to make clones (just like Al Mualim. Were Templars just not that creative for a few centuries? It was something that Desmond was going to have to run by not just his ancestors, but his friends as well), they confused Ezio every now and then. But overall, Desmond was thoroughly impressed how Ezio had handled the whole situation. Even with his exhaustion, he continued to wear Roderigo down and constantly pushing him into a corner.

              And just when Desmond thought it was over and they would finally know what the Templars wanted with Ezio’s Apple, the old bastard opened up a whole new section of the Vatican. With walls that eerily looked like something out of that video Clay had left behind. Of course, fisticuffs ensued. Desmond almost felt bad for the old man. But then again, he should have left the Auditore’s alone.

              Ezio had his last words, leaving the man alive rather than kill him. A decision, Desmond remembered from his old history lessons that Ezio was going to regret later in his years.

              And then he was desynchronized. Lucy’s face and voice greeted him as his sense returned to the modern world.

              ”...esmond!... Desmond! We have to go! Vidic-!” Lucy didn’t have to finish. Silently he swore and moved to get out of the Animus. And then Ezio’s voice filled his mind, louder than he had ever heard him before.

_‘Go back in, Desmond!’_

_Now’s_ really _not the time!_

 _‘DESMOND!_ Go back in! _You need to see what I was down there!’_

_Damnit Ezio! It can wait!_

_‘No! No it can’t!’_

And before Desmond could say anything, a head splitting headache suddenly came on. Not unlike when he saw that phantom figure of Maria Thrope.

               _‘I am not jesting about this! Now respect your elders and go see-’_

  “Desmond?! What’s wrong?” Lucy’s voice interrupted his Italian ancestor. No one could miss the panic in her voice.

              “I have to go back in.” Desmond gritted out, moving to lie back in the Animus.

              “What?! No! You’re not going back in there! We have to go now!” she retorted back. Her hands wrapped around his biceps, tugging unsuccessfully at him to get him out and up on his feet. “We don’t know how soon they’ll be here! Every second we wait-!”

              “Is a second that Ezio is practically screaming at me to get back in the damn machine. And causing me the most painful headache I’ve ever had.”

              He hated how conflicted she looked. Hated that he was causing her distress again. If it weren’t for the fact that Ezio was nearly drowning out all his own thoughts, he would already be out of the door. Desmond barely registered how Lucy bounced on her toes and gnawed on her lower lips.

              “God damnit!” she growled. “Rebecca! Start packing up what you can! Desmond needs to go back in!”

              “What?!” their friend cried.

              “You heard me!” Lucy barked back. “Start packing. I’ll keep an eye on Desmond! Just go!”

              Desmond just quickly laid back in the Animus, hoping that whatever Ezio wanted him to see would be quick.

              Thankfully it was quick to go back into Ezio’s memories due to the short amount of time out of them. And there was nothing to do except open up a passage with the Staff and Apple of Eden. Desmond assumed it would be another, possibly more powerful Piece of Eden. Maybe something to do with Clay’s strange message.

              What he was treated to was something straight out of _Star Wars_. A hologram of a woman dressed strangely. His confusion was equal to Ezio’s.

               _What the hell...?_

  “Greetings prophet.” the woman said, her voice had an echo-like quality with this strange delay every now and then. “It is good you have come. Let us see it. To give it thanks.”

              For a brief moment, Ezio wondered what it - she- was talking about before realizing it was the Apple she was speaking about. Carefully he held it out, watching it as it glowed briefly and it slowly warmed in his hand.

              She looked, nodded, and then suddenly looked away. As if she was turning her attention to someone else. And that’s when it suddenly became like his out-of-Animus experience with Altaïr’s memory. He was suddenly standing next to Ezio, with this strange woman staring right at him. “We must speak.”

              “Who are you?” Ezio asked, clearly mystified and with no way of feeling the sudden tension and uneasiness that Desmond now had.

              The hologram looked back at his ancestor. “I have many names. When I died, it was Minerva. Before that it was Meva and Mera. And on, and on. The others, too: Juno, who was Uni; Jupiter, was before called Tinia...”

_Uh... What the fuck?_

_“_ You are... gods?” Ezio stated, voicing Desmond’s thoughts.

              But the woman (if she could be even called that) gave a soft laugh. “No. Not gods. We simply came...before.” Minerva said with a slight smile, as if the words explained a multitude of things. “Even when we walked the world, your kind struggled to understand out existence. We were more... advanced in time. Your minds were not yet ready to comprehend. Still... not. Maybe never.”

              To Desmond she almost sounded wistful, even as she chose her words. Was this what Clay was trying to tell them? Or... possibly warn them about?

              “No matter.” she said with new conviction. “You may not comprehend us. But you will comprehend our warning. You must.”

              Understandably, Ezio was far more confused than before. And Desmond was right there with him.

              “None of what you are saying makes sense...” Ezio said, hoping for a little more of an explanation.

              “Our words are not meant for you.” Minerva said sharply.

              Aggravation seeped into Ezio’s confusion. “What are you talking about? There is no one else here!”

 _Well, technically speaking, yes. There is no one else here._ Desmond thought.

              “ _Enough!_ ” Minerva snapped, practically glaring at the man physically there. “I do not wish to speak with you but _through you_. You are the prophet. You’ve played your part. You anchor him, but be silent! That we may commune.”

              Desmond felt his ancestor’s confusion. It was like when he had witnessed Altaïr and Maria. He was still in the memory, but he was no longer directly in control anymore. Minerva looked away from Ezio again, and stared right at Desmond.

              “Listen.” she said, her voice now more calm and measured. The room lip up and the light around her began to form other images to go along with her words. “When we were still flesh and our home still whole, your kind betrayed us. We who made you. We, who gave you life! We were strong. But you were many. And both of us craved war.

              “So busy were we with earthly concerns, we failed to notice the heavens. And by the time we did, the world burned until naught remained but ash. It should have ended then and there. But we built you in our own image. We built you to survive. And so we did. Few were our numbers. Your kind and mine. It took sacrifice. Strength. Compassion. But we rebuilt. And life returned to the world. We endeavored to ensure this tragedy would not be repeated.

              “But now we are dying... And time will work against us. Truth turned into myth and legend. What we built, misunderstood. Let my words preserve the message and make a record of our loss. But let my words also bring hope. You must find the other temples. Built by those who knew to turn away from war. they worked to protect us- to save us from the fire. If you can find them... If their work can be saved... so too might this world.

              “Be quick! For time grows short. And guard against the cross, for there are many who will stand in your way.” Minerva took in a slow even breath, looking relieved. “It is done. The message is delivered. We can do no more. The rest is up to you, Desmond.”

              Shock was all Desmond could feel. Shock and confusion. And Ezio felt very much the same.

              “What?” Was Ezio response as Minerva began to fade away. “Who is Desmond? I don’t understand... Please, wait! I have so many questions!”

              But it didn’t matter what he said. Minerva was gone, leaving both Ezio and Desmond confused as to what just happened. He was removed from the Animus quickly, thanks to Lucy’s skills.

              “C’mon, Desmond! We have to go!” she said as she tugged on his arm.

              His balance was affected by his time in the Animus, making his progress slow. “Luc’... Recording...!” he gritted out. She gave him a perplexed look. “The recording..! Quick...!”

              With new comprehension and haste, Lucy grabbed the jump drive that all the recordings were captured on. They began to move out, him blocking out the slew of suggestions from his ancestors and her steadying him as his balance returned.

              “Lucy! Desmond! We have to go!” Shaun yelled from the warehouse floor.

              The pair had barely touched the warehouse floor when the alarms blared to life along with the flashing lights. Desmond swore, pulling away from Lucy as his balance finally returned to him. They ran through the stacks of crates and pallets of supplies. He didn’t bother to worry about information and shipping information. Shaun had, no doubt, made sure that the information was taken care of.

              He stumbled for a moment upon hearing a vehicle break through one of the metal shutters.

              “Find them! And for gods sakes, I need them in one piece!” Vidic’s vice rang out over the alarms. Out of the corner of his eye, Desmond could see Lucy pale at the doctor’s voice. It took no prompting to remember the amount mental and emotional torment she went through because of this man.

               _‘Now would be a good time to learn from my example.’_ Ezio said.

               _‘I normally wouldn’t agree with my young counterpart, but he has an excellent point. Now would be a perfect time to remove him from the picture.’_ Altaïr chimed in.

              He glanced once more at Lucy before moving forward, ignoring her cries for him to turn back. Even if he didn’t kill Vidic, taking care of those he brought would make his pursuit difficult if just for a moment.

              It didn’t take long to come across Vidic’s men. And it didn’t take long to take them down. Even with them armed with night sticks and handguns. The first one went down with a quick series of punches. One right to his solar plexus, another punch connected right under his jaw, followed by one last blow to the man’s temple, hidden blade buried deep before retracting. The next man was already head towards Desmond before he realized that his companion had fallen to him. With no effort, Desmond disarmed him. Taking his night stick and knocking him out. A pair of them tried to gain up on him. In rapid secession they fell. One by the night stick, the other by the blade to the neck. They kept coming towards him. All of them fell by his hands, none of them hindering his progress. If Lucy was still behind him, Desmond didn’t know. But he was certain that none of these men would reach her. The sound of pained grunts, cracking bones, and the tearing of skin surrounded him.

              He rounded a corner to be met by the sight of a large moving truck. Vidic standing in it and a large group of men ready to protect him. With a flick of his wrist, the night stick rested against his arm. The men looked nervous. No doubt they saw the splatters of blood on his clothes. No doubt they saw the cold mask he put on for such times.

              “Mr. Miles!” Vidic called out to him. “So good of you to join us! I think it’s about time you came back, don’t you?”

              Desmond didn’t bother to waste his words on the old man. With measured steps he walked forward. The Templar lackeys all shared looks of uncertainty. Good. Let them feel fear. It would probably be the first time they fear an Assassin. If he had anything to say about it, it would be the last. Vidic, as always, continued to spout out his usual ‘holier-than-thou’ and ‘I’m-smarter-than-you’ bullshit. A man tried to sneak up behind him. His footsteps loud to Desmond’s ears. Without warning, Desmond turned on his heel. His blade entered the man’s gut before turning to another man that had tried to catch him from the right. The night stick connected to his temple. The sound of bone cracking and shattering filling the now quiet space. Desmond saw the other men jerk back. Saw Vidic step further back into the perceived safety of the truck. The doctor shouted at them. Ordered them to attack to him. For moment they hesitated. But they were given the order again. And so they obeyed.

              The men advanced quickly and fell just as fast. One by one. Some by his blade. Some by the night stick. And some by his bare hands. Vidic’s voice quickly changed from arrogance to fear as he realized how quick Desmond moved. But he was starting to tire. He ducked in time to miss a swipe of a night stick. And before Desmond could strike, a blade had found its way into the man’s temple. A quick glance to his left revealed that Lucy had finally caught up to him. He passed her the night stick and the two of them finished off the last of Vidic’s men. Easily they worked around and with each other. One would disable a man and then the other would finish them off. Before the last man fell, Vidic had fled. No grand speech or cartoon villain sepal.

              Desmond and Lucy took a moment to catch their breath, both of them staring at the spot the Abstergo-branded truck had been.

               _‘Well. That was... efficient.’_ Ezio said.

               _‘I think... I think... I’m at a lost for words.’_ Altaïr commented.

              Desmond ignored them, looking at Lucy. “You okay?”

              “Yeah, I’m fine. But we need to get out of here.”

              Quickly, they reached the moving truck that Shaun and Rebecca were already in. Shaun was shouting at them to hurry up, no doubt Rebecca was anxiously drumming her hands on the dashboard. The two of them climbed in, Lucy running to the back of the truck and opening the small window that lead to the driver’s cab. Desmond closed and locked the truck door, and braced himself as the truck lurched forward. He made his way forward, joining her at the window.

              “Please tell me they aren’t following us.” Lucy asked.

              Shaun looked back at them and then in the various mirrors. “If they are, I can’t tell.”

              “How did they find us?” Rebecca asked. “That’s what I want to know!”

              “We’ll figure it out later!” Desmond replied. “First we have to find somewhere to hide.”

              “And then?” Lucy inquired.

              “And then we figure out what the hell is going on.”

* * *

 

              They had driven for hours. Listening in on private radio channels and checking various news outlets had revealed that the Templars had set up check points at every access point across Italy. And it had been hotly debated on where they would go for several minutes.

              “What about Monteriggioni?” Lucy asked. “It’s small, we’ll be able to keep an eye on what’s going on in town without too much issue. And we have someone who knows the Villa like the back of his hand.”

              Desmond had looked uncomfortable when she had said that, but agreed. The ride was mainly quiet. Shaun and Rebecca navigating through the various back roads, quietly talking between themselves. And Desmond sat on the Animus, no doubt thinking about what had been discovered in Ezio’s memories.

              Lucy wondered if both of his ancestors were speaking to him. Or if it was just Ezio conveying what he understood of that day. The experienced side of her still railed against him talking to ancestors. She couldn’t bring herself to interrupt him though. She had barely caught everything that had been revealed under the Vatican the implications of the message - Minerva’s message - seemed nearly too big to comprehend.

              And there was still the matter of discovering how Abstergo had located them. Lucy hadn’t expected the Templars to find them so soon. She had hoped that they would have been able to finish up Ezio’s memories and properly clear-out the hideout before moving on. But, like always, the universe seemed to have other plans. Though it still begged the question of _how_ Vidic found them Had he had agents follow her and Desmond when they escaped? Or had the Templars known of the hideout for some unknown amount of time? Really, there were a number of possibilities and all them tormented Lucy. Especially since she and the others had no real way of knowing if they were being tailed.

              “God damnit...” Desmond grumbled softly, his hands running over his face and through his hair. He would probably want to cut it soon.. It had grown in the weeks since he started being in the Animus. And no doubt he would want to change clothes as soon as possible. His usual white hoodie was covered in blood-stains, along with his jeans.

              Slowly she approached him. “Everything okay?”

              His gaze turned to her and he gave her a soft smile. He looked tired, and Lucy couldn’t blame him. Not after how many Templars he had taken down. “Yeah... Just, uhm.... just trying to sort everything out.”

              A breathless, half-hearted chuckle left her. “I don’t doubt it.”

              He shifted over slightly, giving her room to sit. “Yeah, well... it’s not everyday you discover that science fiction may be closer to reality than you thought before. Oh, and fight a bunch a guys after getting out of a sort-of-not-really time machine.”

              “So you don’t really know what that was talking about either, huh?”

              “Not a damn clue! And of course, I barely remember any of it.” he said with a bit of humor. “Save for, you know, the whole being personally addressed through my ancestor’s memory. That’s probably one of the stranger things that has happened to me.”

              A laugh escaped her. “I would be surprised if it wasn’t!”

              Desmond’s laughter joined her for a brief moment, before it died down for both of them. For what felt like a several minutes, they sat in silence. Lucy looked anywhere that wasn’t him, suddenly very aware how close she was to him. There wasn’t much room on the Animus for two people. And after yesterday’s... closeness, it was hard to ignore how their shoulders were practically touching. How no matter how she positioned her legs, there was a part of them touching his. And with how little they talked this morning... Lucy wasn’t sure quite sure how to handle this closeness.

              “You know, I was kind of hoping that we would be getting a break sometime soon.” Desmond said softly, breaking the silence between them. “I had plans and everything.”

              “Ah. Amateur mistake.” she replied.

              “Yeah?”

              “Yup. Never make plans before knowing whether or not you’ll get the day off.” The comment got a small chuckle out of him. She did her best to ignore how her cheeks warmed slightly.

              “That sounds like something that you get in trouble with HR for saying.” He joked back, his shoulder bumping into hers’ as he adjusted himself. “Ah man, I can’t wait to be out of here. The lack of actual seats is killing me.”

              “Well... either way, was getting a hair cut part of your plan? Because I think this is the longest I’ve ever seen it.” she said.

              His hand went to bangs, fingers gently pulling on the length.. “You think so?”

              She nodded. “Though now that I think about it, I’m curious... What does it look like when it’s longer?”

              “Oh. Uhm... similar to Ezio’s, I guess. I don’t think I can remember the last time I let it grow out so much.” His hand went back in his lap, an easy smile playing on his face as he turned to look at her. “You think there’ll be someone who can take care of it in Monteriggioni?”

              “Maybe... but it’s not that bad.” And before she could stop herself, her own hand came up and gently brushed the strands of hair that had been resting over his ear. His eyes met hers and Lucy froze. Her cheeks burned with embarrassment, but she couldn’t bring herself to move. Or look away. Again she was reminded how close they were. Just on the cusp of being pressed into one another.

              And then he shifted, turning to fully face her, the action causing his side to press against her. Lucy’s sense kicked into overdrive. She was aware of his arm behind her, aware of his free hand slowly moving towards her hand that rested in her lap. And she was very aware of his intense gaze, and _oh lord, was he leaning closer?_

With anyone else she would have felt caged in. With anyone else, Lucy would have pushed them back. If it was possible, her face seemed to grow warmer. The hand that had brushed back his hair moved to cup the side of his face. Her thumb lightly brushing against his cheek. He was so close now that all she had to do was move forward. Just a few inches and then...

              A loud series of bangs broke the tension, causing both of them to jump. Desmond’s gaze shot to the window to the driver’s cab. He sighed before mouthing an apology to her. She watched as he got up and made his way to the dividing window, both of them watching as it slid open to reveal Rebecca.

              “Hey losers! We’re almost there.” she announced, clueless as to what had happened only moments ago. “You guys ready to make camp?”

              “Just about.” Desmond replied, like nothing had been interrupted.

              “You sure? Because I’m sure a normie isn’t gonna take those as ketchup stains.” she pointed out.

              “Don’t worry. Not gonna walk out like this. Anything we need to worry about?”

              The brunette shook her head. “Not that I can tell. We’ll have to keep it on the quiet side though. Since it’s late and all.”

              He nodded. “Alright. Let us know if anything changes.”

              “You got it.” And the divider slid shut, leaving Desmond and Lucy in a strange state of regretful awkwardness.


	17. Let's Talk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! Sorry that it's taken so long for this chapter to come up. But it's finally here! Thank you to everyone who left kudos. It's really helped me keep me working on this.   
> I have the rough of the next chapter written up and I have begun typing it up.  
> As always, please let leave kudos and comments!   
> Especially comments. I really love reading them.

           “Again!” Jack called out. “And watch your footing!”

            Desmond nodded, quickly grabbing a drink of water before returning the start of the test. Distantly he heard some of the others groaning in protest. None of them would dare to say anything to their instructor though. The last time someone did, Jack had made everyone run laps with the heavier wrist and ankle weights.

            With a quick glance up the practice wall, Desmond took a few steps back and a deep breath before scaling it. Jack wouldn’t give a countdown or blow a whistle to single a start.

            “No one’s going to tell you when to strike.” the older man had said during Desmond’s first few days. “No one’s going to tell you when you need to be ready for an attack.”

            Desmond stuck to the rafters, silently moving and observing his fellow peers below. All of them were tired; it clearly showed in their postures and movements. He couldn’t blame them. They had been running drills and practice missions for two days now. Each of them played the infiltrator at one point or another. And for each person, he had been the target. Which meant that he had to fight all fifteen of his peers. Which granted more or less had come to the decision that if they toppled him, they would gain ‘favor’ with Jack.

            The funny thing for Desmond was that he knew there was no winning of favor with their instructor. If anything, bringing him down would only increase their own training. It wouldn’t get them out faster. And Desmond couldn’t just throw a fight, not without getting his ass handed to him for the next two weeks in the form of even more intensive training.

            Desmond squinted slightly, trying to figure out who was the target this time. His peers had a habit of trading off the small red arm band when he was the infiltrator. They thought it was funny. Desmond found it annoying. And Jack thought it was a good exercise for him to learn how to deal with sudden changes in a mission. Carefully he moved a little further on the rafters to get a better view.

            _Shit_. None of those jerks were wearing the arm band. _They’re probably hoping I go after the wrong person so everyone can run away while I got them pinned down. Those assholes._

            He studied them trying to figure out who the hell they decided would be the sacrificial lamb.

            _It could be Jen. She’s a good fisticuffs person._ He thought to himself, _But then again, it could be Alex again. They’re good at holding their own in a bind._

            Nerves filled him as he tried to figure out who it could possibly be. His eyes narrowed as he examined the people below him. Action needed to happen soon. He could feel Jack watching his every move. And the longer he took, the more keyed up the others got.

            Desmond shut his eyes, taking in a slow, quiet breath to steady himself. _You can do this. You can figure this out. Just keep calm and focus._

            He opened his eyes and instead of seeing the usual drab warehouse, he saw things in tones of grey. Thankfully, only Desmond’s head jerked back in surprise. This... was defently not normal. And this had to be one of the strangest things that had happened to him. Slowly he looked back down at his fellow peers. Technically, they were in colour. They were just in one colour.

            Red.

            All of them seemed to be dyed and glowing red. All except Neil. Neil was gold. Curious to see if anything was coloured, Desmond looked around. On the opposite side of the warehouse, on the balcony level was a small gold spot.

            As quickly and silently as he could, he went over to it. He bit back the small ‘yes’ that wanted to escape him. It was a tiny electrical panel. A quick glance told him that Neil was still gold.

            _Okay, this electrical panel is gold. And Neil is gold. And the electrical panel will most likely turn off the lights. Does that mean...?_

Desmond mulled over the train of thought. If he was wrong, upped training. On the other hand, if he was right...

            _Ah, fuck it. No risk, no reward!_

            He flipped all the switches and the lights went out. The now-dark warehouse filled with cried of surprise and swearing. Desmond didn’t waste the opportunity he had created for himself. With a new sense of confidence, he made a fast decent. This new sight was almost like seeing in the dark. He saw the red arm band peeking out of Neil’s back pocket.

            With a smirk, Desmond easily picked-pocketed the arm band. And with the fake knife, he jabbed his target in between the shoulders. There was an annoyed cry of pain followed by ‘mother-fucker’ being said very loudly. Quickly he slipped the fake knife where the arm band had been.

            And without a second thought, he made his way back up to the rafters and to the closest exit. the lights flickered back on just as he pulled himself through a skylight and couldn’t help the shit-eating grin that spread on his face as everyone below swore in frustration. Desmond heard Haru reminding everyone that they had to still find him. He picked himself up and made his way over to where Jack was. If he got to him, then he passed.

            He reached Jack in no time. Jack, when Desmond had vaulted over the hand rail, had just smiled and given him a bottle of water. They watched his peers try and find him in the building and Desmond noticed something. His vision had gone back to normal.

            “Alright! That’s enough! Get your asses up here!” Jack called out, making the teen jump. Desmond decided he would bring up the strange happening when the others weren’t around. His peers looked shocked to see him there already, and he would admit that he felt some smug satisfaction at seeing their shocked faces.

            “So, in case you didn’t notice, you lost this round.” their instructor began. “And while you made an interesting decision to hide the mark, you didn’t use that to your advantage. The lot of you didn’t even attempt an ambush. Which is not the most creative of ideas, but there’s a reason why people still use it.”

            “Sir, we’re tired and we just-!” Cal began.

            “You think Templars care? About if you’re tired? If you’re hurt? If you just want to go home?” he said harshly. Silence filled the space between them. “All of you are here for a variety of reasons. And if any of you still think that this is going to be an easy ride, well I’m sorry to burst your bubble.”

            They all stood in silence for a long moment.

            “Well, it doesn’t help that you play favorites!” Neil shot back. And the moment he did, he looked like he wished to take back the words. Jack slowly walked up to him, getting into his space. The look in the elder’s eyes dared the younger to step back.

            “I play favorites? Would you care to explain that Biggs?”

            “I-I-“

            “Or would you like me to put you through the same training that I put Miles through? Have you run the equivalent of a half marathon each morning? With that weak leg of yours? Or maybe put you through Adams’ program? You spend enough time staring at her. I’m sure you can take on her weight program. I’m sure after your four months here, you can handle a dead lift.”

            Neil stayed silent, his face pale and he was clearly uncomfortable. Desmond and the others had fallen in an uncomfortable silence, watching the exchange with morbid curiosity. And when Jack’s eyes shot over to the surrounding crowd, everyone jumped and averted their gaze. Well, Desmond just froze. After the seemingly countless months, he had learned that at least keeping the appearance of standing your ground was better with Jack than showing how much he could terrify you.

            “Any of you share Biggs’ thoughts?” Silence was his only reply. “Understand this, the lot of you were sent here for a variety of reasons. Some you need a harsh dose of reality, a kick in the pants. Because you have a family standard to up hold and you weren’t doing a suitable job at home. You’re here so I can ensure that you become assassins that can handle any situation. That when you step into whatever role is waiting for you at home, you’re prepared. Got it?” Everyone gave a curt nod. “Good. We’re done for the day. I’ll give you your reviews after dinner. Now get the hell out of here.”

            Desmond watched as his peers scuttled away, wondering how on earth they could move so quickly when they were complaining about being tired.

            “Miles, good work.” Jack complemented.

            “Uh... Thank you?”

            “I mean it. You did good. Now why don’t you tell me how you knew it was Biggs?”

* * *

 

            It was the dead of night. And it seemed that the town of Monteriggioni hadn’t grown much since Ezio’s days. Some buildings had obviously been converted, but it seemed to have stayed the same. Just now there were cars lining the street rather than horses and carts, electric street lamps and placards noting the historical importance of a number of buildings. Okay, most of the buildings.

            “Well, I kind of expected the villa to be in some kind of repair.” Desmond mused softly as they stared at the old Auditore home. The villa had clearly seen better days. Vines had begun to take over much of the exterior, the windows were either boarded up or covered in years of grime. There was a large sign in front, written in both Italian and English, stated the known history of the town and villa along with information about a donation fund to restore the place.

            Lucy glanced over at Desmond and didn’t miss the look of sadness in his expression. She wondered how much was his and how was Ezio’s. Though to be honest, she wouldn’t be surprised if it was both of them. He looked over to her and she flushed, the awkward tension coming back with a vengeance. Her eyes shot back forward.

            _It’s okay, Lucy_ , she told herself, _Just... focus. Focus on getting into the place and then... And then you can talk about what happened. Or panic about it. Whichever comes first._

            “We... uh...” She cursed herself for letting her voice waver. “We should be safe here The Sanctuary should still be intact.

            “Be that as it may,” Shaun said, “we have no idea if the place is still structurally sound. Or if we can even get in for that matter!”

            Lucy sighed and Rebecca let out a huff of annoyance.

            “Look on the upside.” Desmond said with a shrug. “We don’t have any Templars on our heels. And they can’t just rash in here without drawing major attention to themselves.”

            Rebecca tossed up her hands. “Which doesn’t mean anything if we can’t get out of cell surveillance!”

            “Hey, calm down! Before we start freaking out, let’s see if we can get in. And if we can’t we’ll figure out our next plan of action. Okay?” He looked at each of them as they all murmured their agreements.

            Shaun and Rebecca were instructed to move the truck, and Lucy followed Desmond. It was a little strange how quiet the area was. Only the sound of the last few insects and the low hum of the electric street lamps filled the air. After so long in an urban setting, it was a bit unsettling. And then combined with the constant replay of what happened not too long ago in the truck.... Lucy found herself more distracted then she wanted to be.

            _Well, you did almost kiss him._ a small vice told her. _And this was the second time in two days._

            _Something we haven’t talked about yet._ Lucy told herself, _Mostly because he went straight into the Animus this morning._

_You could just kiss him now._

“Jesus...”

            Lucy looked back at Desmond and then followed his gaze. A good section of the villa was gone. There was now a large opening leading straight into Mario Auitore’s study. Grass, weeds, and vines had taken root between the cracks in the stone walls and marble floors. The bookshelf that opened up to the Sanctuary was empty It was truly sad to see the Auditore villa in such a state.

            And it showed on Desmond’s face.

            Hesitantly, Lucy reached and slipped her hand into his. For a moment he didn’t react and she almost pulled away. But before she could, his fingers wrapped around her hand. He gently squeezed it, holding it as he mournfully stared at the old villa.

            “C’mon. Let’s see if we can get in.” Desmond said softly. And the moment was over. With a final squeeze, he pulled away and walked into the crumbling ruins of the study.

            Quietly she followed him and moved to clear out the plants and rubble that had grown in the hidden door’s path. He activated the mechanism to would open the door and was only greeted with a click followed by loud grinding. There was no movement to accompany any of the sounds. Lucy heaved a small sigh.

            “Okay… What do we do now?” she asked as she turned to face Desmond.

            “Well, we don’t want to take an axe to it. Being able to keep the entry way close is the best way to keep us from getting extra attention.” He answered, a hand running through his hair.

            They waited for Shaun and Rebecca to arrive and when they did, explaining things when they arrived.

            “Well this is just great!” Shaun cried.

            “Will you calm down, Shaun?” Rebecca said, moving to his side.

            “Calm down!? We’re sitting ducks out here! Ducks with giant targets and signs asking for the Templars to come and shot us!”

            Rebecca did her best to reel Shaun in, but it was clear that the historian was panicking and on the verge of completely losing his shit. And Lucy couldn’t blame him. They had to come up with a plan and fast. Night wasn’t going to last forever. Once morning rolled around and people saw the news (where they no doubt be called criminals and wanted by the authorities), moving during the day would become a lot harder. Add that with cell surveillance…

            With that knowledge, Lucy herself was starting to panic herself. No doubt it was a feeling they were all having to some extent. She looked back to Desmond. His gaze wasn’t completely focused, his brow furrowed. The tension in the old study was building between the four of them.

            “Hang on. I think I have an idea.” Desmond said calmly. Lucy shared a perplexed look between Shaun and Rebecca as he left the villa.

            “Is this an Ezio thing or a Desmond thing…?” Shaun asked uncertainly. Lucy was sure that he wasn’t actually expecting an answer.

            “I’m not sure. I’ll go see what he’s up to. Give us a shout if something happens. Unless-”

            “Unless we can’t find you or you two can’t be reached.” Rebecca finished. “We’ll work out a backup plan while you two do your thing.”

            With a nod, Lucy went out after Desmond. And she saw him perform a lead of faith over the edge of Monteriggioni’s fortress wall.

 

* * *

 

            In hindsight, performing a leap of faith in viewing range of his friends was not a good idea. Especially when one of those of those people was someone he had feelings for. But in the moment, it seemed like a good idea. Completely natural, to be honest.

            “Desmond!” He heard Lucy call out.

            He looked up to see her descending down an old ladder built into the old fortress wall.

            “How’s it going?”

            _‘That was-’_

_Awful. I know. Shut up, both of you._

            Once she was a safe distance from the ground, she jumped off the ladder. Her face clearly showing that unhappy with him.

            “You know, next time you should check that there’s something below to safely land into.”

            A nervous chuckled left him. “Sorry. Ezio just, uh, said an alternative route would be down here.”

            Lucy sighed. Her gaze was defently annoyed. Or at least, she seemed annoyed. Either way, staring at her only reminded him of what nearly occurred between them not too long ago. Quickly, he turned his gaze away from her, feeling his face beginning to heat up. He hoped that he could school himself while they were exploring whatever was down here.

            “So is this what Ezio was trying to show you?” she asked.

            His eyes fell on the cave-like opening in front of them. And Desmond could hear his Italian ancestor gently nudging him to go in. With a nod he went in, pulling out a light stick and cracking it to life.

            “And what exactly is this place?”

            “An escape route. It should lead back to villa.” Desmond explained. “So hopefully we’ll be able to open up the Sanctuary from the other side.”

            Lucy nodded and they moved further in. And of course there were obstacles. Crawling under things, scaling walls… Really, it was a little ridiculous. And all Ezio said in defense was,

            _‘What? You don’t leave the keys to your fortress at your enemies’ door, do you?’_

            Which was annoying, considering that he and Lucy had run into a cave-in that blocked them off from the main path.

            “O…kay. That’s a no-go.” Lucy commented.

            “Do you see any way around that? Because we have to come up with a plan b fast.”

            “To say the least.”

            They looked around, hoping that they would be able to find a way out. But it wasn’t until Desmond spotted an old, pully-esque system that seemed workable. Old memories from his training days with Jack crept forward.

            _Okay. Training that seemed weird when I was a dumb teenager is beginning to pay off._

            “Hey Lucy. I think I’ve got something.” He called out.

            “Yeah?”

            “Yeah, come here.” When she was within reach, he wrapped his arm around her waist, gently pulling her into his side. Distantly he could hear one of his ancestors comment on their positions but he ignored them, too focused on making sure he remembered how to do this correctly without getting them killed. “Hold tight.”

            Her arms wrapped tightly around his waist. And with a strong, swift kick to the practically ancient lever, they rocketed up to the higher section of the tunnels. The landing was a little shaky, but they were alive. And no longer in a dead end. Lucy let out a small, weak laugh which prompted Desmond to let a stupid grin spread across his face.

            “That was fun!”

            She gave a giggle this time, pulling away slowly, as if her legs were a touch unstable.

            “You could’ve warned me.” she replied, a hint of nervous laughter in her voice.

            “Well, I’m just happy it worked.”

            They continued on, occasionally guided by Ezio’s memories of the location (something that Desmond was certain she wanted to comment on but guessed from the lack of comment that she was her wanting to get out of the tunnels. And she was probably observing him as well, trying to pin point his Bleeding Effect symptoms). Crossing gaps and finding alternative paths filled their journey. But every now and then there were brief flashes from his ancestor’s past. Of people fleeing, running away from the chaos that had enveloped Monteriggioni at one point.

            He did his best to block out and ignore those moments. It was difficult, mostly due to them filling out the gaps of information in Ezio’s timeline. Of why the underground system was the way it was now. And it didn’t help that he was hearing and feeling Ezio’s emotions as these brief flashes played out.

            “Everything okay?” Lucy asked softly when they took a moment for a breather.

            “Yeah. Just some ghost images. They don’t last long but…”

            She replied with a soft ‘O’, her eyes taking in their surroundings for a moment before giving a minuet nod.

            “It’ll be fine.” He continued. “It’s probably just going to take some getting used to. You know, location and all.”

            “Right.” She murmured. They were silent for a long moment, before Lucy spoke again. “Do you… do you need some grounding?”

            The suggestion, he knew, was clearly about helping keep himself grounded in their own timeline. But the last time she had done that, he had nearly kissed her in front of their friends.

            _‘Stop being a coward!_ Ezio cried out, _‘Just go for it! Just profess everything and get on with it!’_

_God damnit, Ezio! Could you not!?_

_‘I’ll be an old man again by the time you make a move! The great Mentore will be ancient by the time anything happens! The two of you will be wrinkled and grey, and unable to produce heirs to our linage!’_

_Please stop. Just get us into the Sanctuary and then you can berate me for my lack of romanticism. And for the love of God, please don’t talk about sex and ‘producing heirs’. I don’t wanna hear that from you of all people!_

_‘Now seems like a good time.’_   Altaïr chimed in. _‘No else here to witness anything you don’t want to share.’_

_This is a sewer._

Ezio let out a gasp of hurt. _‘My dear descendant! How could you say that about the family home!?’_

_It’s a sewer! Not ideal for any sort of romantic notion._

_‘You really shouldn’t be so picky.’_ Altaïr grumbled. _‘There could be worse places. Or times.’_

_Why are you on his side now?!_

            Suddenly Lucy’s hands cupped his face, pulling his attention away from his ancestors. Her brow was scrunched up in worry, eyes searching his for something.

            “Desmond…?”

            “Uh… Sorry. Ezio just being Ezio.” he said with an embarrassed chuckle, his face heating up slightly.

            “…About…?”

            _‘JUST KISS HER!’_  Ezio cried. If the Italian could physically be there, Desmond had no doubt that the man would be violently shaking him.

            “Being very vocal about his opinions on my life.” He gritted out.

            There was an awkward silence at the words. Lucy not moving her hands and Desmond not moving away or closer to her.

            “Do…do I want to know what those opinions are?”

            Desmond did his best to keep his mouth shut. Because his own stupidity would make itself known.

            “Is it… is it about what nearly happened in the truck? And yesterday?”

            Fuck.

            He forgot that Lucy was perspective. Jesus, why the hell was it so easy to forget that she was trained assassin too?

            _‘Because she was trained to be perspective.’_ Altaïr commented dryly. _‘Infiltration.’_

            Oh.

            Right.

            That.

            “It’s… uh…” he cleared his throat, which suddenly was very dry. “It’s a little influenced by that.”

            He watched as her face bloomed into a very intriguing shade of red.

            “Oh.” Was all she could get out.

            Slowly her hands began to move away and before they could, his hands flew up and caught her wrists. His face was on fire when he completed the action, no doubt matching her current colouring.

            “Desmond… are we…?”

            “I don’t know.” He could hear his ancestors groan in frustration. “But we’ll take about it. Soon.”

            “Why not now?”

            “Uh… Because we’re in a sewer?”

            Lucy looked around at their surroundings again. “Oh. Right. We should…We should get going.”

            “Yeah. Shaun’s probably burst a blood vessel by now.”

            She gave a short nod, her gaze casted down. “Yeah…”

            Their hands pulled away and neither of them moved. Desmond could see that she was starting to over think this. Probably even begin to talk herself out of whatever she had expected from this possibility hanging between them.

            “Hey.” Desmond murmured, gently placing his hands under her chin and tilting her head up. “As soon as we can, we’ll talk about this. I promise.”

            A guarded smile formed on her face, “You say that to all the ladies?”

            “If by ‘all the ladies’ you mean you, than yes. Yes, I do.”

            Lucy blinked and then laughed, “Really? That’s what you got?”

            He chuckled. “I panicked. Give me a break.”

            Her laughter devolved into giggles, and Desmond found himself to going into laughter every now as they began to continue on. And while the mood was now lighter, he could feel the slight tension underneath it all.

            _God, I hope that I don’t fuck this up._


End file.
